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murdocksdaughter · 1 year

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Drinks And The Dance Floor — Pablo Gavi

a/n: i promised this yesterday and let’s pretend i did post this yesterday, yeah? cool.

warning: mentions of clubbing, drinking, and suggestive themes

word count: 1.7k

The club alive tonight, with music playing so loud you could feel the thumping of the beat in your chest. People danced passionately, cheered loudly, and drank like no tomorrow. y/n was enthralled by it all.

Watching from the booth in the corner she sipped her second vodka. She scanned the club enjoying the view of people losing themselves to the beat of the music. Highly entertained by the crowd of people she took another sip of her drink before having her gaze drift to the bar.

That’s when she saw him from across the club sitting at the bar, alone. The Pablo Gavi just alone at the club bar. This had to be a scene straight out of a rom-com. She had half a mind to just leave him alone, let him enjoy his night in peace. Watch him from afar.

But where’s the fun in that and she came here to have fun. And tipsy confidence started to take over.

This is the golden boy of FC Barcelona, one of her favorite youngsters of this generation. She could watch him from afar whenever she wanted to but the chance to even speak to him may never come again. Downing the last of her vodka sprite, a game plan formed in her head. She shook her shoulders a bit and made her way across the club to the bar, a small smirk forming on her lip.

She leaned back on the counter at the empty spot next to him, her arms propped on the counter holding her weight.

“Hi.” she greets him, her smirk becoming a sweet smile.

“Hey.” He replies back short.

She looked behind her at the bar then back to Gavi, “Are you-”, before she could finish her sentence he cut her off.

“Yes, I’m Pablo Gavi.” his voice became increasingly more distant. The girl could only laugh, smiling wider.

“Oh no I was going to ask if I could buy you a drink. But it’s quite a pleasure to meet you, Pablo Gavi.”

Gavi looked taken aback. Girls fawn over him, come up to squealing his name, then squealing again when he speaks to him. But she just laughed off his name. Treated him like a regular guy. It intrigued him to say the least.

Leaning back on his chair he finally met her gaze to find soft eyes and a coy smile draw her lips. Gavi noted her outfit first, dressed in a simple cropped shirt that rested right above her belly button with wide sleeves and flared jeans. It was a simple outfit but complemented her shape well. Paired with the dismissiveness of his name and the air of confidence around her. It was alluring.

“You want to buy me a drink? ¿Por qué?” Gavi asked with a raised eyebrow.

y/n shrugged her shoulders. “¿Por qué no? Gives me an excuse to talk to a pretty guy sitting by himself. You’d do the same with any girl, sí?” she replied, her tone laced with flirtatious intentions.

Gavi felt his face flush and thanked god the club lights obscured the color. She called him pretty and it made him flustered. He quickly composed himself.

“Well what can I get, hermosa?” he asked, smiling playfully matching her flirtiness.

“Whatever you want, my treat sweetheart.” she replied, pushing herself off the counter and making her way to the bartender. Gavi followed after quickly catching her pace.

“Hola amigo,” he called out to the bartender, waving him down slightly.

“Hi, what can I get you two?” the bartender asked, throwing a towel over his shoulder.

“I’d like a beer, por favor?” the bartender nodded then looked to y/n gesturing for her to order.

“For me I’d like a sangria and two shots of tequila, and also can you add it to this card?” She pulled out her credit card from the back pocket of her pants and handed it to the man.

The bartender nodded, taking the card and walking off to fulfill their order.

“Two tequila shots?” Gavi asked, leaning on the counter.

All the girl could do was shrug with a sheepish smile. “One for the both of us, it’ll be harmless fun. Then we can continue our night however we like.” Gavi laughed lightly with his boyish smile painting his lips.

“One shot won’t hurt anyone I suppose.” He responded, his fingers nervously toying with each other.

y/n noticed his nervous tick and offered her hand to him. Gavi grabbed her hand intertwining their fingers. The gesture was small and seemed subconsciously done, as if it was second nature for her to reach out and calm someone.

It gave him a sense of ease. Although he enjoys his nights out being just like any eighteen year old, all eyes on him outside of the pitch made his stomach turn and his heart clenched in anxious unrest. But y/n didn’t skip a beat in sensing his discomfort and offered silent assurance.

Gavi looked to their hands then up and into the sea of people surrounding them.

“So what do you do for work? When you said your name earlier it was as if I was supposed to know you?” y/n’s question pulled his attention back to her. It was hard not to giggle at herself and her small ploy.

“I play for the football club here, F.C Barcelona. I’m a midfielder,” Gavi replied. He shifted his weight and looked at his surroundings feeling a sense of awkwardness rise in his chest.

‘Does she even know what that means? God Gavi you sound so arrogant. Dios mios!’ he thought to himself.

“So…um..what– heh uh what do you do for work? Do you live here in Barcelona or…?” he asked, stumbling over his words. y/n stifled a laugh, rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand. She could tell he felt almost out of place at the moment and awkward.

“I’m here for a vacation but Barcelona is a gorgeous city. I’m enjoying my time here.” She replied and Gavi felt something sink in his chest. It was an odd sense of disappointment but he shook it off. He’s Pablo Gavi and this was just one girl. He’s talked to loads of girls, this one leaving at the end of the night never to be seen again won’t be the end of the world.

“A beer for you señor and for you señorita the sangria and the two tequila shots. Enjoy your night.” The bartender set down all the drinks and y/n’s credit card on the counter.

y/n grabbed her card and slipped it back into her pocket then grabbed her drinks. Gavi followed her actions and grabbed his beer and his shot of tequila. He raised his tequila shot up, “¡Salud!”

y/n raised her own up and touched it to Gavi’s “¡Salud!” she repeated cheerfully. Both down their shots quickly, y/n started coughing slightly due to the burn at the back of her throat.

Gavi giggled slightly, “Too strong?” he asked before sipping on his beer. She rolled her eyes playfully and waved him off.

“Don’t tease, tequila doesn’t go down easy all the time.” She replied, taking a large sip of her sangria. Gavi laughed again at her teasingly as he slipped an arm around her waist. y/n leaned into him, raising her eyebrow.

“That’s a bold move would you say Pablo,” she teased flirtatiously.

“No more than anything you’ve said to me,” he flirted back.

The two sipped on their drink and swayed together on the edges of the dance floor to the various songs that played loudly. They continued to talk, further acquainting themselves with each other. But tenison started to grow between them. The longer they spent in each other’s presence it became more than just simple flirtations.

Then the familiar melody of Shakira’s Chantaje started to play, despite being an older song people cheered when the song started. y/n looked to the dance floor before setting her drink down on the bar counter. She moved to slip out of his hold and moved to the dance floor.

“Where are you going?” Gavi grabbed her upper arm gent and leaned into her ear so she would hear his question clearly. y/n looked up at him with a playful smile.

“I’m going to dance,” She winked at him before slipping out into the crowd. Gavi watched her as made her way to the dance floor. The girl moved her body to the beat of music, her hands moving down the sides of her torso as she swayed her hips to the music.

Following the beat she lost herself to the song, subconsciously singing along to the lyrics. Gavi continued to watch her, his eyes traveling her body.

Then She turned her back to him, continuing to move her hips and move her hands up her body. Finishing off his beer he took a large sip throwing his head back then left the empty bottle on the counter. Gavi immediately made his way towards the dance floor.

As y/n turned around to face Gavi their gazes found one another. A coy smile painted her lips as she put a hand our beckoning Gavi to her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his chest.

“¿Por qué no bailamos juntos, hermosa?” He whispered against her jaw. His hands ghosted down her sides and rested on her hips.

y/n’s arms reached out to wrap around his neck. “Lovely idea, mi chico bonito.” she replied. Gavi smiled and started to follow the movements of her body. They danced together, their foreheads pressed together as and eyes looked at one another.

Gavi’s hands traveled back up body to her waist. He squeezed it as he leaned into the base of her neck to kiss it gently. y/n turned around his grasps and pressed her back against his chest. Her hips grinding back on him and head thrown back onto his shoulder. Eyes gazing into his and a coy smile drawn on her lips.

“Don’t play with me,” Gavi grumbled into her ear. She only laughed and brought up a hand to cup the back of his neck. Holding him closer to her body, his breath fanning on her neck.

y/n sooned closed her eyes and placed her free hand over his that was resting on her waist. They continued to dance with each other for a few more songs. Their bodies continue to grind against each other. Hand roaming each other’s bodies and whispering desperate flirtations.

Then y/n pulled away from Gavi’s grasp abruptly.

“Well it’s been a pleasure Pablo Gavi, but unfortunately I think it’s my time to go.” her hand dragged down his chest before she made her way through the crowd, disappearing from Gavi’s sight.

~~~

2nd a/n: part 2 with smut maybe?? idk tell me if you y’all want one :)

tags: @osferthsgf @footballerficsposts

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi imagines #pablo gavi oneshot #fc barcelona #fc barca #fc barcelona imagines #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi x y/n

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upon-a-starry-night · 11 months

Text

Number Neighbors Pt.3

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha masterlist Series Masterlist

Pt2

Word Count: 1k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

You and Nat began texting regularly back and forth every day, despite her initial hesitance to talk to a stranger it seemed like maybe she was beginning to open up to you, and it was safe to say she was on your mind 24/7- which after one too many glasses of wine and rom-coms lead you to pick up your phone and send her a text you were far too drunk to think over

Nat🔪

Y/n🍦:

Heyyy segg-c ;)

The response wasn’t immediate although you could see she had viewed your message, you pouted at her lack of reply and sloppily typed out another message. You were relying solely on auto-correct to convey your emotions

Y/n🍦:

Don’t ignore m3 :(

Nat🔪:

Sorry-

What’s up?

Y/n🍦:

I’m lonely

How cme no one un New York wants to date me?

Nat🔪:

Maybe because people in New York suck?

Y/n🍦:

I want to agree but technically I live in New York

which means your saying that I suck

Nat🔪:

You're*

And I mean

-If the shoe fits

Y/n🍦:

Shhh my brain can’t think grammar right now

>:0

Currently sobbing and not because of the Rom-coms

Nat🔪:

I’m kidding

You only wear Duck socks anyway

Y/n🍦:

Stalker!

How did you know I was wearing them?

Nat🔪:

Well last time you were watching TV you were wearing them

I just guessed

Y/n🍦:

I don’t believe you

I knew you were an FBI agent!

Nat🔪:

You got me.

Surprise

Y/n🍦:

wait really?!

Nat🔪:

Yep, I’m actually right outside your window

You, being in the drunken excited state that you were in, immediately dropped your phone on the couch and ran to the window, searching for signs of anyone but the local crackhead on the streets. Much to your dismay, no one was there

Meanwhile, Nat was silently praising herself for getting you to believe her story, but it was obvious you were probably under the influence of some sort of substance and despite you being a total stranger you were remotely interesting and she could humor herself a bit longer.

Nat🔪

Y/n🍦:

You’re mean

Nat🔪:

Just so you know I’m laughing so hard right now

Y/n🍦:

I don’t tolerate liars in the sacred house of Y/n

Nat🔪:

I didn’t know you were a religious figure

Y/n🍦:

well when you look as hot as I do…

People can’t help but worship you

Nat🔪:

Understandable

I’m sure you look great

Although your cheeks were already red from alcohol consumption, you were sure that if you had any friends they would point out the noticeable blush on your face

Y/n🍦:

Thanks ;)

I’m sure you look great too

Nat🔪:

Yep

People are falling over themselves as I sit in my Pajama pants and Tank top

Nat looked up at the sound of someone entering the living room. Clint, surprised that someone else was in the room, tripped over his own feet and fell straight onto the floor, Nat chuckled to herself while Clint just groaned. Huh, guess she was right.

“What are you doing awake Nat?” Clint stood and rubbed the back of his neck, stretching his now-aching muscles

“I could ask you the same thing” Nat shot back

“I’m just getting a snack,” He explained, opening the fridge and taking out some leftover pasta that Wanda had made, Nat lifted her brow in a silent question but Clint just shrugged and grabbed a fork

“Whatever, fine, don’t tell me I didn’t even want to know” He mumbled as he walked back to the elevator to go to his room

Nat decided her room would probably be a more appropriate space for privacy and left the living room for the solace of her bed

She knew she could look you up and find out who you were in seconds but it was nice to finally talk to someone new who wasn’t a target for a mission. And you were actually pretty fun to talk to. Maybe she’d just take a peek in the morning. For now, she was reveling in the moment.

Y/n🍦:

What kind of pajama pants?

Was the question Y/n had sent, along with a picture of her own pants, which had rainbows all over them. She laughed to herself, haha gay.

She needed to drink less next time.

Nat🔪:

Wow.

Nothing as interesting as those

Nat debated sending a picture of her plain gray pajama pants and after what felt like ten minutes of internal struggle, finally snapped a quick photo and sent it

Y/n🍦:

Booooo! Gray

You know a person's pajama pants say

A lot about their personality

Nat🔪:

I’m offended

Y/n🍦:

Good, you should be.

I’m offended too

Offended that you’d even consider buying pants so boring

Nat🔪:

What’s wrong with gray?

It’s a great neutral color

Y/n🍦:

Is that what you want your personality to be Nat

Gray?

Nat🔪:

Well what would you suggest I wear then

Miss Rainbow pants?

Y/n🍦:

Rainclouds

Since you’re so grumpy all the time

Nat🔪:

You’re really pushing your luck

Might just have to delete your number now

Y/n🍦:

No!

I thought we were friends

Nat🔪:

Strangers

Y/n🍦:

Strange friends.

Nat🔪:

Don’t you have a job or something?

How come you’re always up so late?

You should sleep

Y/n🍦:

Don’t You have a job??

Maybe you should go to sleep

Nat🔪:

I’m trying but this crazy stranger keeps

Texting me all night and keeping me awake

Y/n🍦:

They sound like a great person

You two should definitely meet

Nat🔪:

Goodnight Y/n.

Y/n🍦:

:( fine

Good night Nat, good luck sleeping in your Gray bed

Nat scrolled up and checked the picture that she sent, confirming that her bedspread was in fact, not in the photo

Nat🔪:

How’d you know it was gray?

Y/n🍦:

like I said-

A person’s pajama pants say a lot about them

Nat just shook her head as she shut off her phone, a smile on her face, You really were something. The more she talked to you the harder she found it to stop texting you.

Pt.4

-I had a random number invite me to a birthday party not too long ago. What’s your weirdest random number story?~ Starry

------

Taglist @romanoffsgal

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clone-whore-99 · 6 months

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Would it be completely out of line to request a Rex fic? You can say no if it is--it's fine. It's probably not everybody's cup of tea to tackle.

The idea is Rex and fem!reader have been in a relationship for a decent chunk of time (six months min?) and reader has definitely fallen in love with Rex . (Because why wouldn't she--he's REX.) He's her first real relationship and she's had all of her firsts with him except her first sexual experiences (beyond some groping) and now finally feels ready to take that step. Except she's nervous and a little self-conscious because, while she has no experience, Rex does and she's afraid to be a disappointment to him. How he handles that information and what he does to soothe her worries, I'll leave to your discretion.

TL;DR: Can I get some slow, hot, romantic, sweet, sexy first-time smut with Rex, please?

BTW, love your writing. Your Mayday fic was literally the first one I found after I searched him on a whim (curious to see how fast the stuff would be coming out for him). Very nice. Way to get out in front of it all!

Hiiii! No of course it will not be out of line to ask for a Rex fic! I am CLONE-whore-99 after all, not just Bad-Batch-whore-99. Sorry it took me so long to respond btw, life's a bitch but just know I've been working on this since I got the ask

Firsts

Rex x f!Reader

18+ minors will get yeeted

Warnings: so much fluff with a little smut to flavor it, lot of firsts, inexperienced reader, established relationships, fingering/handjob, safe unprotected piv, both reader and Rex are such sweethearts, reader is in a bit of a dangerous situation in the beginning

LMK if I missed anything (❁´◡`❁)

Word count: about 4k

Beta read by: @nunanuggets

Please like, reblog and comment if you like my work, it means more than you know ❤

If you want to, you can also help by buying me a coffee ❤

Rex. The love of your life, Rex. The man you could see yourself spend the rest of your life with. The man you had all of your firsts with - well, almost all.

The way the two of you met, was a classic rom-com meet cute. Something you’d never thought actually happened in real life.

But it did.

To you of all people.

You had just moved to Coruscant for University, first time being on your own in the big, scary galaxy. You had never really thought of yourself as sheltered or naive, but the other students had apparently labeled you as “gullible” and thought you an easy target for pranks.

Most of these pranks were thankfully harmless, but one did seem to take things a tad too far. They had sent you on a monkey-lizard chase on the lower levels, something you quickly realized after being laughed out of a bar, but not before you had managed to get completely lost.

As time passed on, more and more… Questionable characters came out, and you felt way less secure and a lot more desperate.

Some of them must’ve picked up on your nervous behavior, as they began to circle you, tease you and comment on how you must be from the topside, that you had no place being down there, ect.

You were sure this was it. This was how you were going to die, within your very first week of being on your own. You were terrified, alone and couldn’t help the tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.

That’s when he entered your life. Your savior. Your hero. Your king. Rex.

With a few stern words, one warning shot purposely missing a perpetrators head by only a hair strand and a few punches for good measure, he had saved you.

He had stayed with you until you calmed down enough to actually talk, made sure you actually got back home to your student apartment and stayed the night on the couch, like the gentleman he was.

The next day was apparently one of his rare days off duty, which he decided to spend with you.

Pretty soon he would spend all of his off time in your apartment, whenever he was planetside.

He taught you self defense and how not to be so “gullible” when it came to others. He told you about his crazy adventures, about the jedi and the things he faced in the heat of the battle.

In return, you taught him how to relax, to let himself mourn his losses and his brothers and about regular, civilian life. Though, he never really seemed to quite get the grasp of it.

It didn’t take long for you to fall in love with this wonderful man and it appeared the feeling was mutual. When exactly the relationship started, you weren’t sure. It just kinda happened.

Maybe it began when Rex for the first time brought home a souvenir from one of his missions. Nothing illegal or grand really, just a pretty rock he had found while resting, which made him think of you. He was so shy when he presented it to you, rubbing the back of his and stumbling over his words explaining the reason behind it.

Or maybe it was the first time the two of you cuddled together, warming up and drying off after having gone on an emergency grocery run in the pouring rain. Or the first time Rex let you see the emotional scars the war had caused him. Or the first time he had slept in the same bed as you, after you had had a nightmare.

No. It was without a doubt, the first time you kissed. You wanted to make a traditional meal from your home planet, only to accidentally burn it. You were so distressed, wanting nothing more than for this man to experience a part of your home. Rex had calmed you down with a kiss and the two of you ended up going on your first official date, at Dex’ Diner.

Everything about this man seemed perfect. He made you feel like the most important person in the whole galaxy, like you deserved everything good and then some. And you truly felt the same for him.

Which gave you an inkling of guilt. Rex was a rather… experienced man, when it came to bedroom stuff. Obviously. He wasn’t only extremely handsome and sexy, he was calm, intelligent and had an energy about him which made you feel safe. He was ideal in every way possible.

And you… Were you. You hadn’t even as much as kissed a man before Rex, let alone done anything sexual with anyone. You wanted your first time to be with Rex, but you were scared he would be bored or dissatisfied with you.

Why wouldn’t he? There was no way you could give him anything special. Anything he hadn’t tried yet.

You still wanted to try, though. Rex was bound to come planetside within a few hours and you did everything to give him a warm welcome.

You showered, cleaned the apartment, showered again, dressed your bed with new comfortable sheets, made a delicious meal that just needed quick heating once you got hungry, showered one more time just to be sure and went out to get some fancy drinks and sexy lingerie.

Upon returning to the apartment, you heard the shower running. Thinking that you might’ve forgotten to turn it off during the chaos of preparations, you ran to the refresher to fix your mistake.

How you missed the perfectly stacked, dirty armor next to the bathroom door will forever be a mystery.

The very next thing you knew, however, was that you had just run in on a butt naked Rex in the shower. And you suddenly felt a whole lot of things at once.

Rex didn’t seem too bothered to cover himself, though he did stand in a way so his more private parts were hidden from you. More for your comfort than his own.

“Y/N, you’re home. I hope it’s okay I let myself in to get clean, our last mission was on this dustball of a planet,” he explained, as if he ever needed a reason to let himself in. You had given him the keycard and code to your door for a reason.

Despite your best efforts, no sound managed to escape your lips. You were kinda just stuck there, staring dumbfoundedly at Rex, feeling your cheeks get hotter and knees get weaker by the second.

After getting a towel to cover himself with, Rex exited the shower and closed the space between the two of you. “Aaaare you okay, Y/N? I really didn’t mean to scare you, if that’s what happened.”

You were somehow unable to move, just staring ahead like a kybuck caught in headlights. Rex placed a hand on your cheek and lightly tilted your head up to meet his gaze. The look on his face was a mixture of worry from your odd behaviour and loving to finally see you again.

“I was gonna surprise you, but I guess you beat me to it.” You finally managed to get out, though your voice was still careful and low for some reason.

“Is that so? What was the surprise?”

Your heart was beating so fast and loud, you nearly feared it might break free from your chest. Your whole body felt like it was burning hot and melting away, with the way Rex was looking at you, with how close he was, nothing but a singular towel to cover himself.

“I was going to make this night special for you,” you admitted, without fully revealing the truth.

“Mesh’la, every night spent with you is special.”

Though his statement was sweet, it was far from what you meant. It felt weird admitting the truth, nerves wrenching your gut. Although you were certain you wanted this that night, with this man, it was still a huge step for you.

Hiding your face in your hands, you pressed yourself against Rex’ bare chest - which did not help with your rapid heartbeat. “I want to have sex with you. I was gonna surprise you with sex,” you admitted, voice muffled from your hiding.

With both hands coming to rest on your shoulders, Rex gave you the smallest shove so you wouldn’t be hiding against him or behind your hands. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I heard you correctly,” He said, looking confused though you could swear there was something else hiding behind his eyes. “Did… Did you say you wanted to… Have sex with me?”

You nodded slowly.

Rex’ hand moved up to your cheek to cup it, as his lips made contact with yours. It was long and soft, melting away all of the tension you had built up with anxiety.

“Mesh’la,” Rex began, his voice deep and raspy. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Confusion written all over your face, your eyes searched his face for any sign of sarcasm or joking. “What do you mean?”

A smirk crossed Rex’ soft lips, as if you had just asked him why the sky was blue. “Just that you seem a bit nervous, that’s all. I like this thing we’ve got going and I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Rex’ features had a tendency to become soft in your presence. When you first met him and often when he returned from battle, his features were harsh and rough from the stress of the war. But whenever he was around you, they softened a whole lot, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

It was incredible to get to witness him relaxing and being himself around you. It made you feel more relaxed too.

“I want to,” You replied, upon realizing you had spent way too long studying his features, rather than answering his question. “I really do want to. Why else would I have spent all day preparing for this? It’s just…” Suddenly feeling shy, your gaze averted downwards and to the side. You leant in closer to Rex, resting against his chest, though this time without it obstructing your voice while talking. “It’s gonna be my first time and… You’re, well, you. And I’m scared I’m not gonna live up to your expertise or it won’t be any good for you or… I don’t know! My mind starts running and running so fast I can’t keep up and all these scenarios start playing out and most are good but those that aren’t just -”

With a swoop of his hand, Rex had tilted your face upwards again and pressed a kiss against your lips to shut you up. Your own hands rested against his abs, just around the start of his happy trail.

Breaking the kiss far too soon, Rex’ forehead came to rest against yours. His eyes were half lidded and so easy to get lost in. “How about we just take it slow and see where it ends?” He suggested, before planting another kiss on your lips. Straightening back up to stand tall, an adoring smile crossed his lips. “And I promise, there’s no way anything you do won’t feel good for me.”

With that, the two of you suddenly ended up in your bed together. But unlike all the other times before, this wasn’t for sleeping or a cuddle session.

All of your plans had been thrown out the window. Rex suggested you waited with the food till after, same with the wine as he wanted you to be clear headed for this.

You were still fully dressed, while Rex’ towel was hanging on to dear life. Rex was leaning over you, sloppily making out while one hand kept exploring your body. So far, not much out of the ordinary.

Well, other than only a piece of cloth separating you from his member and your exploring hands constantly inching closer to it.

Rex only broke the kiss for a second, so he could take off your top and quickly went back to kissing you.

His calloused, yet surprisingly soft hands began fondling with your breast for a spell, expertly massaging and pinching them, causing you to be the one to break the kiss this time, with a gasp.

Rex used this opportunity to move his sloppy kisses down your neck, as one of his hands simultaneously traveled down towards the apex of your legs.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, or if it becomes too much.” He murmured against your skin, the vibrations traveling through your body and forced a pathetic whine out of you, as a response.

Upon making contact with your most private area, Rex found that much to his surprise, you were soaked. Beyond sloppy-makeout-session soaked. And as his finger made contact with your throbbing, sensitive clit, your hips instantly buckled against his hand, while your head threw back in a moan.

Rex broke the attack on your neck, so he could look you in the eyes, as he asked: “How long have you been turned on?” His eyes were dark with lust, his tone bordering between being genuine and being playful.

You gave up your attempt to explore his body, in order to hide the shame on your face. Not accepting this, Rex quickly brushed your hands away and pressed his forehead against yours, forcing you to look at him. All the while, his finger did not stop its teasing of your clit, causing pathetically low moans to escape your lips.

“Answer me, mesh’la.” Rex ordered, his voice commanding yet endearing.

“I, ah… I don’t know? Been thinking ‘bout this all dayhhh… But seeing you, in the shower, def - kark - definitely did something to me.”

“You’ve been thinking about me all day? Tell me about them,” Rex egged you on, one of his digits now teasing your entrance while his thumb continued its ruthless pace on your clit.

Speaking was getting harder, while your vision was starting to blur and this knot began tightening in your solar plexus. One hand grabbed tightly onto Rex’ bicep, while the other found its way past the very loose hanging towel and down to hold his cock. You weren’t sure where this new confidence came from, as you had never had contact with another person's genitals.

The throbbing would probably have freak you out, if it wasn’t for Rex’ finger curling into you, while he moaned - the sexiest thing you’ve ever had the pleasure to hear. The thing that was going to tip you over the edge.

Your grip on Rex’ bicep tightened, nails digging into his tan skin, while your other hand began pumping his cock, moving completely on its own accord. “Ka-ark, Rex….” You moaned, your hips thrusting into his palm, as the knot in your stomach snapped and a huge wave of indescribable pleasure washed over you.

Rex moaned praises into your ear, as his hips began thrusting into your hand. He was struggling himself, the feeling of your hand around his cock, while you were moaning his name, made it hard for him not to just cum right then and there.

But he wouldn’t be a very good soldier - much less captain - if he broke that easy. So when you came down from your high, Rex pulled away.

Confused, you pushed yourself up on your elbows, so you could look at the soldier who had by now moved on to pull your pants and underwear off.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” you asked, slight panic filling you at the sudden retrieval on his part.

Chuckling, Rex replied: “No, not at all, mesh’la. On the contrary, your hand felt so good, I needed to know what the real deal feels like. That is, if you’re alright with it?” He tested, fingers already gripping the band of your pants and ready to pull.

How could you say no? The way he was looking up at you, all hopeful and loving, like you were a goddess and he was awaiting your blessing. Besides, if he could make you feel this good with just his fingers, you could barely imagine how the real deal would feel.

You nodded at him, the grip he already had on your heart tightening furthermore. “Yes, I’m alright with it.” You said out loud, knowing he wouldn’t accept just a nod for a reply.

In a swift motion, the soldier had completely undressed you. His gaze wandered over your nude form, admiration mixed with lust all in one look.

“Beautiful,” he said breathlessly.

Feeling rather shy under his adoring gaze, you tried to somewhat cover your body with your arms, only to have Rex instantly pushing them away again.

“Don’t,” he encouraged, looking lovingly into your eyes. “You’re more beautiful than I ever dreamt about.”

“You dream of me?” You asked, surprised at this new insight.

“All the time, mesh’la.” Rex replied, leaning back over you to bruise your lips with a few more kisses. “You have become a permanent occupant in my thoughts, giving me something other than the Republic and my brothers to fight for.” Rex continued the kisses down your neck, marking you as his with a small bite.

You weren’t sure if the noise you made was a moan or a sob, but it was something in between. How could he say such wonderful, loving things to you, all the while attacking your neck and grinding against your sex.

At last, Rex sat up again, using both his hand and cock to gather as much of your slick as possible. Then, he paused for a moment. “Are you…?” He began, unsure how to properly ask.

“I am,” you replied as if you had read his thoughts - or maybe just his face. “And are you…?”

“Had my checkups before coming planetside, perfect health all around.” Rex replied, reading your mind on the subject.

The fact that neither of you even had to finish your sentences, that the other part just instantly knew what you meant, furthered your belief that this was the right man for you.

“Then let’s do this.”

Rex did not need to be told twice. He lined himself up with your entrance, the tip barely pushing in.

“Just relax mesh’la and tell me if it becomes too painful, okay?” Rex’ eyes found yours and the lust was temporarily swapped with worry. This wasn’t his first time being someone's first, and he knew the more nervous they were, the more uncomfortable it would be for both parts. And that was the last thing he wanted for you.

It felt like you were about to cry from happiness. He was so considerate, so amazing. You couldn’t find a better man. “I promise.”

Even though you tried your best to just relax, the intrusion of the head and the sudden stretch was a lot. Rex seemingly quickly picked up on this, as he closed the space between your bodies without pushing any further in.

His hand began stroking your cheek, as he placed small kisses on your lips, your nose, your forehead and eyelids. It worked, as you melted into his touch and began relaxing again. This gave him room to continue.

“You’re doing great, you feel so good, you’re so amazing, I love you,” these and many other things were whispered into your ear, praising you as you took more and more of him.

You wrapped your arms around his back, needing to somehow feel even closer to him. One hand found home on the nape of his neck, while the other held onto his shoulder. Tears pricked your eyes at the stretch, but it wasn’t unbearable. It was a pleasant burn and Rex made sure to take it slow, so you could adjust.

It felt like he was deeper in than possible, when he suddenly stopped. You moved your hands, so you could look him in the eyes. “Is it all the way in? It feels so big.”

Rex gave you an adoring smile, then adjusted himself so you could look down at where your bodies connected. “It’s a bit more than half. I’ll let you get used to it, then slowly start thrusting. It’s gonna make it easier to go deeper and feel better for the both of us. Is that okay?”

“Is it okay with you?”

The answer was within the question and Rex knew it. You were okay with it as long as he was. Just the same for him. So instead of giving a verbal response, he began kissing you. No matter how many times you had felt those soft lips on your own, you would never tire of the feeling.

He slowly began thrusting and the feeling was beyond anything you had ever experienced. The stories you’ve heard of others, the feeling of fingers and all that was nothing compared to the real deal. You felt so full, so complete in the most incredible way.

Your nails dug into his scarred back, you had to break the kiss in order to moan, your hips began meeting his half way through on their own accord. And when he started going faster, his name left your lips with each exhale.

Something about the way his balls were hitting your ass with each thrust filled you with pride. He was all the way in. And the fact that he also had to stop his kisses in order to moan - to grunt! Oh it was the most amazing sound you had ever heard. It made your body swell with pride.

No, not the pride. Something else. Something better.

It was like every nerve in your body had become ignited with pleasure. Like all of the force, the stars, everything good had connected inside your body and was begging to be released.

All of your muscles tightened, your vision blurred as your mouth was stuck in this ‘O’ shape. Wave after wave washed over you, cleansing you from your anxieties and troubles. Never had you ever imagined a feeling this good. Never had you thought it was possible.

Rex seemed to be just as lost in pleasure, as he kept muttering something under his breath, something you couldn’t understand, while his thrust became faster and more shallow.

Just as you were at your peak, at the moment you thought it was impossible to feel even better, you were proven wrong. Ribbons of seed spilled into you, painting your insides white and it made you reach a new high, a new sensation of indescribable pleasure.

Rex collapsed onto you, all of his energy sucked out with his cum. He was sweating, panting, and completely exhausted. This soldier who could run for miles, climb impossible mountains and fight for his life without losing his breath. But this… You. You managed to exhaust him.

Not that you were in a much better state, but you at least had the excuse of being a civilian.

After catching your breath, you finally regained control over your own limbs. Weakly, you slapped the soldier on the side of his arm.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Why have you never told sex feels this good?”

Chuckling, Rex replied: “I’ll let you know next time.”

Dividers by: Unknown, @lornaka @freesia-writes and @djarrex

Taglist: @zoeykallus @rain-on-kamino @ashotofspotchka @chxpsi @maulsrightleg @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @wildmoonflower @nunanuggets @lokigirlszendaya @wholesuhmsstuff @pb-jellybeans @dangraccoon

LMK if you want to be added to the taglist (✿◡‿◡)

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tineteenieworld3 · 1 year

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Okay I personally don’t love the ‘trope’? Or headcanon maybe? I don’t think it’s either of those things it’s just a thing. Again, this is completely my opinion and every one is entitled to theirs and everyone’s allowed to just have fun and do whatever they want because it’s seriously harmless, I always want to preface by saying that because the way I feel doesn’t mean the way others feel is wrong or anything. It’s just my thought process.

anyways sometimes I don’t love the treatment of Mike in comparison to Will. I don’t really enjoy when all the characters gang up on Mike, sometimes it happens in fics. Which again TOTALLY COOL there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that I still read. I think it’s more of us being so used to saying or hearing that Will deserves better, or that no one understands why Will would pick Mike or it’s always Mike just being less important or an ass while everyone cradles Will and his feelings.

Again, there’s nothing wrong with making stories like that or joking about it or anything this isn’t me saying that people who do that are dumb or ‘don’t know the characters’ because we’re all just here having fun and none of it is serious. Really, I just love talking about Mike and I think we need to do it more often especially since we’re waiting for season 5.

Mike isn’t less important than Will and Will doesn’t ‘deserve better’ or ‘can do better’. We said that so much after vol. 2 that it definitely ingrained itself into our heads and into the fandom which is understandable. But, I’ve said this before, Mike and Will are equals. The thing that makes them so interesting as a pairing is that they handle their problems without, usually, anyone knowing or outside input. They’re very much together in things and the same level, ya know? I’m not saying this great, but Mike isn’t some dick at all and he deserves as much attention and love as any other character.

He gets a lot of weight but on his shoulders and I think that perfectly represents his character. The expectations for him are much higher than the ones for El or Will or Max or really anyone (other than Nancy because people can’t handle a flawed woman) Mike just got lied to for a whole season straight. He messed up on one day throughout the entire season. Then he tried to fix it, he tried with El, he actually did apologize and fix his relationship with Will. That’s what’s confusing to me sometimes, Mike said the monologue and it was a mess, but he also wouldn’t have said shit if Will didn’t literally force him to. He pulled shit out his ass like any other kid in that situation would. And I think that’s what the writing represents is that Mike is saying stuff you’d hear in any cheesy rom com. But again, wouldn’t have happened if Will didn’t push him.

He really didn’t do anything wrong. Other than the first day in California, Mike was just being Mike but in more of a side character kind of way. El lied to him and then it was displayed to us as it being Mike’s fault. Mike gave Will a pretty great apology that I would die to get from anyone I cared about.

Idk maybe it just rubs me the wrong way because it’s kinda sad. Again, this is absolutely no hate to anyone who likes the trope or to write those stories I completely support you and the way you enjoy this fandom. This is just a personal opinion.

Anyways circling back to Will and Mike here. Their relationship is very mature they don’t have other people butting into it and giving their opinions because I think it would piss both of them off. These two have been friends since they were five and I think if Will heard anyone acting like he was a delicate Angel and Mike didn’t deserve him he’d be pissed off. Mike deserves love and respect, a shit ton of respect actually, just like any other character. Idk the character isn’t real so it really doesn’t matter at all and it’s all for fun of course, but Mike is just as important as Will and El. He’s a complete sweetheart that’s just trying his best.

Especially season 4. He acted out of wack and like a dick that one day and then basically never did again. His character is so interesting, but I love him and I personally believe he’s the best Will could ever do because it’s Mike and he’s not some unimportant character that deserves to be constantly under minded and treated like the villian.

Again this is all just my opinion and is absolutely no hate to fic writers who like this kind of story or anything like that at all, everyone can do whatever they want and I will never ever act like it’s dumb or something you shouldn’t do cause it really doesn’t matter and I support the drama it brings lmao. I just love talking about Mike Wheeler and I think since we all have a lot of downtime before season 5 it’ll be a good thing to do because we don’t explore him as much.

#byler #mike wheeler

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consumeronionbulletin · 1 year

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I Am Not A Robot (2017)

Can a fake android and a grumpy rich guy find true love? And if they can, does it make for good entertainment?

Judging by my interest level by the end of the series, I'd have to say "probably not."

The central question to this show is the same one that plagues many rom-coms: "Can a relationship built on fraud, lies, and Stockholm Syndrome actually turn into True Love?" The answer is "no", but it can produce a reasonable facsimile in about 5-6 episodes.

I finished the series, skimming through the boring parts just to see the ending. The biggest problem is that the writers strung this thing out for about 10 more episodes than they needed to before finally resolving it. And they didn't really resolve it, they just had a big dramatic argument and then jointly decided to move on.

The Performances

Chae Soo-bin as Jo Ji-ah (aka President Cho, aka Aji3). She did a pretty good job in all three of the roles she was given. She was funny when she needed to be, and charming, or sad, or distant when the script called for it. I feel like she got turned into a punching bag for the antics of the male lead, but that's what happens with these shows sometimes.

Yoo Seung-ho as Kim Min-kyu. When the script called for him to be the straight-man for all the antics going on, he did great. I enjoyed watching him be a grumpy hate-able dickhead for the first third of the show. Then the writers tried to make him more sympathetic by giving him a traumatic backstory, and let him be really abusive towards all the other characters (who to be fair, were totally scamming him), and I liked him much less. Overall, he did a good job, but I think I would rather have watched 16 episodes of Kim Min-kyu's No Good, Very Bad, Day (with a Robot) than the corporate drama nonsense they gave us in the back half of the show.

Hwang Seung-eon as Ye Ri-el. She had a small role in You Are My Spring and I wanted to see more of her. She had a decent arc, but wasn't a real standout in this show. I think the problem was she was basically a support for Kim Min-kyu and when she was finally allowed to be a full character, it was part of the corporate backstabbing nonsense that I didn't like.

Santa Maria Team. They were fine. At times they were better than fine. The writers gave them all a good arc, and the actors followed through with it.

KM Financial. This was the weakest link, by far. I wanted to watch robot antics and harmless fraud (against a rich investor that needed to be taken down a few pegs). I didn't mind the traumatic backstory, but I didn't sign up for chaebol backstabbing nonsense. The only nice part, was the reconciliations between (*spoilers*) Hwang Yoo-chul, Ye Ri-el, and Yoo Seung-ho.

Ji-ah's Family / Friends. They were nice to watch. The writers made them very relatable (even if the older brother was a dickhead), and the actors did a good job.

Min-kyu's Family / Friends. The butler was great and we could have used more of him. The doctor did okay. The robots in his household were done well by the props / special effects group.

TL; DR:

The show was funny at the beginning where the show had you cheering for Hustler Ji-ah and the Fraudster Science Team against the hate-able rich guy. Then it tried to make Kim Min-kyu likeable, and just ended up giving all of the other characters (and maybe the audience) Stockholm Syndrome. It's not really offensive, and alot of romance stories do that, but it can be tiresome.

Is it too much to ask if, just once, they could let the audience hate the rich, young handsome guy at the end of the series?

#my kdrama notes #i am not a robot #bonkers #let me hate the rich guy for once

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purplesurveys · 2 years

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1562

When was the last time you did clay work/pottery? I can’t remember which year it was but it has to be around 2017 or 2018 when I went to this pottery session in Vigan. What I did turned out to be pretty good! but I had to leave it behind since they still had to bake it and we weren’t staying that long enough in the province.

Do you like art, hate it or just not mind it? I love art. I’m definitely not the type to analyze it and be familiar about art techniques and terms; I just really enjoy looking at it. I’m also starting to go to more art galleries and exhibits because of it, since for the longest time I only stuck to history museums.

If you had to choose would you prefer dull pain for 12hours or sharp for 2? I’d take the sharp for 2. I’m bad with pain.

Koala or Kangaroo? Hmm, kangaroos I guess.

Do you know the words to the national anthem of your country? Of course.

Is your country ruled by a president, prime minister, queen or other? President. One that I hate with every bone in my body, unfortunately.

Does blue occur in your national flag? Yes. Fun fact and I think I’ve shared this but have another round of it anyway: Blue is placed on the top half when the country is in a period of peace. If we’re at war we flip the sides so that blue is on the bottom and red is on top. Fortunately I’ve never had to live through seeing the flag have to be flipped.

Talking of flags. Do you like football/soccer? If yes, do you play and what position? I do not follow football at all.

Would you rather be a Model, Famous Scientist, Singer or Chef? I’d love to be a chef. That’s what my dad is but also - so I can feed myself endlessly.

Would you rather be a pilot, crime scene investigator or estate agent? Pilot!

Does making others happy really make you feel happy? It really does. So much so I’m always willing to sacrifice stuff on my own side just to make people happy. For the most part it’s harmless but there have been moments where this tendency of mine has ended up toxic for my wellbeing.

What colour literally doesn't appear in your wardrobe at all? Purple. As much as it’s one of my favorite colors, that doesn’t apply to the things I wear. Purple never really did look ok on me. Also pink.

Do you actually read the answers others give to your surveys? I don’t make surveys but yeah, I do go through people’s answers.

Did you ever swear at a teacher in school? Why? I have never sworn directly at a teacher. But I’ve definitely badmouthed some with friends.

Have you ever pricked your finger on Holly or another 'sharp' plant? Not my finger but other parts of my skin like my arm, yeah.

Speaking of Holly, do you adore Christmas or does it bug you? Neither. It’s more like I don’t really care for it and the reason it’s celebrated. I do like having that time to spend with extended family though, plus I always appreciate the 2-week work break the holidays are able to give me.

Have you ever wrote your own short story? What about a novel? Or perhaps you started and couldn't finish? I have definitely attempted to write one-shots before but they will never see the light of day, and I’m very grateful that my brain has forgotten their plots for me.

Do you prefer SciFi/Fantasy/Action/Horror or Rom/Com/RealLife? Like, when it comes to movies? I prefer ones with more realistic stories.

What do you have a lot of faith in [note: can be anything]? Activists.

Think of a material thing you want. Name it here (material, made or bought). Would $100/60 be enough for this item? How about $1000/600? What is 100/60 dollars? Anyway I’d like to have a loft bed - $100 is not enough for it but $1000 is definitely more than.

Would you rather have a big house, a lot of kids or a high flying job? I’d love a high-flying job as long as it doesn’t suck my soul dry.

Have you ever been to a creepy/haunted/abandoned place? What did it look like and what were the circumstances? Nah. I had the chance to, but I chickened out before I could step inside. It was a white abandoned house that was right across Laurice’s, when we came over to her place three years ago. What's your favourite dip? Mayonnaise or sour cream.

Chocolate Cookies or Fudge Brownies? Brownies, as long as you meant double chocolate cookies because I am not a fan of those.

I give you a little baby puppy. What do you name him? Would depend on their personality, which is always my attitude towards naming pets.

Is crime a big problem in your area? In this country in general, yes. Recently kidnappings and disappearances have been all the rage among people my age, but apart from that there’s also a whole lot of homicide and drugs and it certainly doesn’t help that the previous administration launched a violent drug war.

What's your town/city most well known for? Rice cakes and pilgrimages. Do you know a Jack? What's he like? How about a Lisa? What's she like? I don’t know anyone with these names.

Are most your friends older, younger or the same age as you? Mostly older since they’re friends from my org who entered college earlier than I did.

Do you subconsciously hang out with those with the same star sign as you or as each other, perhaps due to certain personality traits? Nope.

Name 5 objects that you don't have but would like right now? Stacks upon stacks of cute new clothes; a few pairs of new sneakers; a pair of AirPods; a projector in my room; and a waffle maker.

When you have children, would you like twins? It wouldn’t be the end of the world but I’d certainly be freaked out initially at the prospect of taking care of two infants at once. Do you know any twins? If so, what are they called? Vaguely. We had a couple of twin pairs in my high school.

If you were given the choice to choose your child's gender, would you? Yes, I’d love a girl.

What instrument would you love to learn how to play? Piano. I’d never stop playing if I only knew how to use it, I think.

Does the sound of knocking/tapping startle you? Yeah, it definitely can.

What's the scariest story/urban legend/creepypasta etc you heard? Maybe those stories on subreddits that have kids saying the creepiest shit, like how they somehow know they had a twin sibling die or suddenly name-drop a dead relative that’s never been mentioned around them.

Do you miss someone currently? No, I’m fine on my own right now.

When was the last time you were in hospital? What for? May 2020. Needed to get a blood test done for what ultimately turned out to be a UTI.

When was the last time you went to the dentist? Around July to get a wisdom tooth extracted. Then ate a chicken sandwich immediately after, lol.

Do you get along well with your family doctor/your doctor? We don’t have a family doctor. We kinda just go somewhere new every time.

What personality trait does nearly everyone in your family seem to have? We don’t handle confrontation well and always skirt around uncomfortable topics, if not ignore them altogether even if it’s the glaring elephant in the room.

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infinitemovielist · 5 years

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#The Perfect Date #movie poster #Noah Centineo #Laura Marano #Odiseas Georgiadis #Camila Mendes #Alex Biglane #Blaine Kern III #Even though it kiiiind of scratches the surface by posing some questions about economic and social status and privilege #All in all is a pretty harmless rom-com #I do wonder where is Noah Centineo's career going beyond the teen heart-throb hype

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multiples-fandomswontkillme · 3 years

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~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

#metal family #glam metal family #ches metal family #victoria metal family #chess metal family #dee metal family #heavy metal family #metal family glam #metal family victoria #metal family dee #metalfamily #metal family heavy

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missskzbiased · 3 years

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The Things We Don’t Tell

Summary: You were sure your life was written and directed to fit a sketchy Rom-Com and nobody could convince you otherwise. First, your boss was too hot to be true, and burning with desire didn’t even begin to explain the tingling sensations he left on you. Second, your coworker (a.k.a. Ex-About-to-be-FWB) insisted in turning your life into a living hell, which wasn’t the exact kind of hotness you were into. And if having these two hot men around you every single day of your life wasn’t enough to prove it, maybe the threat of your slutty secret identity about to be busted would be… But you couldn’t let this happen.

WC: 7,5 K

Genre: Smut, Humor (?)

AUs: Office, Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Bang Chan

(Not really a love triangle as Hyunjin is the Lead. However, Reader wants to Bang Chan)

Rebloggable Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Tag List

Warnings: Language, Thigh riding, Public space (Office), Exhibitionism, Possessiveness, Pet Name (Baby girl), Sir Kink

[If I forgot anything, please let me know! I’m kinda sleepy right now]

Notes: There will be at least one more chapter but I won’t do a tag list post for now, only if someone wants it, cuz I’m too lazy to think about doing it right now. This fic is an attempt to experiment with some writing style things that I’ve been wanting to try. I don’t think it worked, tho SUHAHUSAUHSUHA But that’s life

- I’ll quite possibly change the title in the future-

///

You are a superhero.

Okay! To be honest, you may be exaggerating a little bit ─ a tiny harmless little bit ─ but that was how you felt every single day of your life, alright? You had this glorious and mysterious side of yours that you hid from everyone else in the world… That mask that you couldn’t let come to the ground and would fight for dear life to protect… That side to your persona that no one was allowed to meet… The fierce, bold, and dark aspects of your soul that—

“Y/N! I want those papers on my table!”

“Yes, sir!” You shrieked in an embarrassing (not even slightly bold) way.

— That you couldn’t show at your work.

Yeah… So maybe no one actually thought of you as a superhero, but you really believed someone should start to. Was there something that different between your life and those low-budget TV shows people seem to enjoy so much? You didn’t think so.

To be fair, sometimes you felt like someone wrote a questionable script and poorly directed your life to fit you as the leading lady of a sketchy rom-com. As if they just focused on checking out every point on a bullet list made up with rules for a successful superhero office drama that wasn’t even that good…

… And speaking of which…

Rule Number One: The stern (maybe kinda attractive) boss!

If you had to define Bang Chan with a couple of adjectives, you would choose undeniably beautiful ─ extremely professional of you because the right words to describe him were fucking hot ─ and committed. Fortunately, it wasn’t an “I have someone waiting for me at home and a bunch of kids I must put to sleep” kind of commitment, which would destroy your hopes of having this man one day. Unfortunately, it was an “I’m better than the header and gonna run this company by tomorrow night” kind of commitment, which destroys your hopes of a peaceful day at work.

Now, it’s not like you don’t want to do your job! It’s just that you didn’t sign up to be Bang Chan’s perfect little toy ─ definitely not the better words to describe it ─ and you didn’t expect to be joined by the hips ─ really? ─ with him or any of your coworkers. The thing is that Bang Chan wants to be on top ─ someone has to stop you ─ and he believes the only way to get there is to work as a team and be as perfect as one can be. In other words, Bang Chan wants absolutely everything and everyone to be neat, tight, and ready to be used ─ again… Not the better way to put your thoughts into words ─, but this just wasn’t who you were.

It also wasn’t the point right now.

The point right now should be the fact that Bang Chan was striding to his office looking like he owned the whole damn place… If this was a movie, the camera would be focusing on his expensive, black leather shoes before scanning all the way up to his waist in slow motion. The scene would zoom in on his fine ass only to go a little bit up and catch the shiny, black belt wrapping around his figure. The outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination, but you had a hell of a productive mind… You could think of a few things you shouldn’t really be thinking about right now.

Bang Chan didn’t seem to understand he was at work either.

He rolled his sleeve up in a sexy motion that should be illegal. It isn’t. You can tell by the way there are no cops bursting inside the building and arresting this gorgeous son of a bitch.

The lack of any authorities to stop this atrocious moment had you lowering your gaze to your desk ─ a vain attempt to ignore the way his forearms flexed as he gestured and ordered people around. If you were a little bit less professional, you would have some ideas of how he could do it in bed. With you. But you weren’t some kind of creepy perv who would be fantasizing about riding your own boss from dusk till dawn.

Not at all.

“Do you need me, Sir?” His secretary asks politely.

A question that you would love to ask him too… In a totally and strictly professional way, of course.

Rule Number Two: The (extremely unnecessary) nemesis!

The shiver running down your spine could mean only one thing: Hwang Hyunjin ─ your obnoxious coworker ─ was standing right behind you, just like a bloody damn ghost. There was no need to turn around. You knew he had his mocking eyes glued on Bang Chan’s figure, and you could feel the air shifting as he tilted his head in a silent sneer before leaning on your desk.

You refused to turn around and acknowledge his presence; painfully aware that he would flash a wide grin while looking at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. You wouldn’t give him the taste of seeing in your face that he was right; that you were staring at your boss as if you were a starving vulture. So you did the only thing you could do in this situation: You started to work. The sheets scattered over your desk wouldn’t walk by themselves to Bang Chan’s room, right?

And neither would you if it depended on Hyunjin.

The attempts to swipe the papers in your direction and gather everything you needed ─ to finally get rid of Hyunjin ─ proved to be vain as his hand took root on the desk. You pursed your lips in annoyance while glancing at his prominent knuckles and slender fingers; wondering if he would be so collected if he knew you wanted to crunch them. Probably not. But he gets off so fucking much on upsetting you that he might just want to take the risk anyway.

“What do you want, asshole?” You hissed; stopping your motions before turning around to stare blankly at him.

The face of an angel was the most accurate way to describe the sight in front of you. Plump, pink lips molded into a sweet smile and dark brown eyes morphed into cute crescents. None of those features fit his true self, though. Underneath the angelic façade, there was a demon called Hwang Hyunjin ─ who was resting his free hand on your shoulder for no reason besides driving you crazy.

It would be easier if he was just a pretty face, but Hyunjin had a good body too. The guy looked just like a model ─ slim, tall, and classy ─, and even though only his collarbones peeked out from down his shirt, you knew that there was much more than the eyes could see.

Well, you never saw it, but you had felt it.

As far as you could remember, each curve on Hyunjin’s abs was craft by God himself. The way his chest was built for you to caress would be forever craved on your mind. You might never forget how soft his lips were in contrast to his lap… How his thighs flexed just right when you pulled his hair… How reactive he was… How his moans sounded… And how he put everything to waste.

“Oh, nothing” He shrugged. As usual, his voice was just like sweet, hot honey; still, you could wipe the poison dripping down his chin, “I was just wondering if you had enough time to do your job while fucking your boss inside your head” He clarified sarcastically, cracking you a smile.

Sometimes you regretted not putting his mouth to good use… He really needed to learn how to shut up for a while and stop being so… Unbearable. The silence he met had him scoffing; body leaning even closer to the point his face was practically hovering over yours ─ smugness plastered all over it. You held his gaze to confront him; breathe mingling with his in a heated mix that matched the anger under your eyes.

Was he licking his lips as he stared at yours? Oh boy… He definitely wanted to get laid. It was your time to scoff as the frown on your lips turned into a smirk; eyes twinkling mischievously as you looked into his in a silent teasing. As if sensing that he was in trouble, Hyunjin tilted his head to look even more obnoxious than he was; face coming closer to yours to defy your newfound confidence.

“You know what? If you stared at him any longer, I think his balls might have fallen off…” He whispered in a tone loud enough for just you to hear “Unless he saw the way you were looking at him… Then I guess his dick would go straight up” He assured you with a ‘friendly’ pat on your shoulder as he finally let go of your papers and straightened his back.

“Are you saying it from experience?” You sneered; grimacing at him.

“Are you telling me that you want me to fuck you too?” He retorted gibingly; not even thinking twice about it.

“No” You tilted your head, trying to stay composed, “I’m reminding you that you couldn’t even kiss me without getting a boner… Just like a teenage boy” He arched a brow at your statement; pursing his lips as he hummed in wonder “I’m surprised you never came in your pants like the pathetic thing you are” He laughed; poking his cheek with his tongue before squeezing your shoulder in a silent warning.

“I must have been quite a sight if you can remember it so vividly” You pretended not to notice the way he sniggered, pushing away the urge to punch his face.

Nemesis was just a classy way to call him a pain in the ass.

Rule Number Three: The (plain and uninteresting) secret identity!

It would be impossible to miss the moment Hyunjin’s devilish smirk morphed into a bright, friendly smile. The snarky comment on the tip of your tongue was swallowed back in a bit; grimace dissolving into a wide grin as if you weren’t about to throw your fists at him. He giggled as his arms spread open before snaking around your body to pull you into a tight hug; holding you close and rocking your body side to side as a soft huff fell from your lips.

If you didn’t know any better, your knee would be buried between his legs.

“Way to go, Y/N!” He chirped, loosening his grip to take a better look at your face; eyes smiling as if the both of you were the bestest of friends in the entire world, “You’re awesome! I’m so proud… I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you as my teammate” He pursed his lips; dimples showing as he offered you nothing but affection in his gaze.

You did know better, though, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out who was standing behind your back as you opened your mouth to answer him: “There’s no one I’d rather be with!” You reassured Hyunjin in a sweet, mirthful tone; tilting your head to return the fondness in his look in an act worthy of an Oscar “We’re a team, you know? You can’t get rid of me so easily” He laughed wholeheartedly at that; ruffling your hair before leaning closer to you again, resuming the hug.

“We’ll see about that” He whispered in your ear, making you scoff.

“What are you gonna do? Cry to Daddy so you won’t work with me anymore?” You hissed back; breaking away from his hug with a tight grin before turning around to meet Chan’s gaze.

The surprise plastered over your face was millimetrically calculated; just like the way you pretended to be flustered as you stared into your boss’ eyes to see the pride shining on them. You brought the papers closer to your chest in what was meant to be an innocent, coy way ─ a technique mastered over the months you worked for him ─, and Chan seemed to fall for it as he giggled in delight. The poor guy had no clue all of this was as fake as your camaraderie towards Hyunjin, and he wasn’t about to discover it anytime soon if it depended on you.

Luckily, it did! You had taken some acting classes; just enough for your next words to be naturally convincing: “I’m so sorry, Sir! We’re just so happy that –” The words were deliberately drawled to give him enough time to interrupt you. Just like you knew he would. And it was a good thing that he did because you had no idea of how you were supposed to finish that sentence anyway.

You were a good actress, not a professional improviser.

“Don’t mention it” He cut you off giggly; detaching himself from the doorframe he leaned on as he watched the friendly scene taking place.

The amount of cuteness this man could deliver in his smile wasn’t fair, and it didn’t match the sensuality a simple gesture of his overflowed with, enchanting you. You gulped down as he gave both of you a silent order to follow him into his room, wondering if the duality he had in the office was remotely similar to what he could do in bed ─ a thought that shouldn’t be having a place in your mind right now.

Hyunjin seemed to pick up on it pretty quickly too, and as soon as Chan turned around to head to his office, he bumped his shoulder onto yours. The obnoxious action was followed by your elbow diving into his ribs; a retaliation that took you less than a second and, luckily, Chan ─ or any of your coworkers ─ didn’t seem to notice. Neither of you gave away your silent quarrel as Hyunjin closed the door behind him, smiling at you when Chan finally took his seat.

“It’s good to see that you guys have such chemistry” He confessed, and you had to suppress a scoff when you looked into his eyes. He had no idea… The chemistry between you two was enough to make you want to blow each other, “You know what I always say, right?” He boasted on a sing-song; much more at ease than he seemed to be earlier.

You weren’t about to put that on the line, though.

“You can’t have teamwork if you don’t have a team!” You warbled in unison.

“That’s the spirit!” Chan gurgled, heading to his desk in a visibly good mood.

What was going on? He wouldn’t be so happy just because you and Hyunjin were being friendly… Were you missing something? He didn’t seem in such a peaceful state of mind when he came in… It had to be something that happened after that. Perhaps he got some good news from his secretary? Or maybe… You narrowed your eyes as you caught a glimpse of Hyunjin’s hands fidgeting in front of him; his foot tapping the ground rapidly but quietly before moving slightly to step on your toe.

Or maybe Hyunjin had something to do with it…

“As I said in the email, Sir, I happened to hear some stuff around and… KQ managed to get an exclusive with Han Jisung” The sentence sounded just like a normal introduction to a report, but you knew it wasn’t. Hyunjin’s eyes darted to meet yours, glinting with anxiety and despair. He was informing you of what was going on, not Chan, “And as we all know, Jisung is a rising producer star, which is bound to raise their sales and might get in the way of ours…” He continued, swallowing dryly and widening his eyes ever so slightly.

He was definitely trying to warn you of something.

“Yes, I read the e-mail, Hyunjin” Chan agreed sternly; smile disappearing as his fingers intertwined to serve as a support for his chin. He looked classy and incredibly sexy, but your mind couldn’t afford to focus on it right now. You had to figure out what the hell Hyunjin suggested to Chan before blowing everything up, “You also said that Y/N might have the solution for this…” Oh, so that was it, you thought when Chan arched his brow; eyes connecting to yours.

And now what?

“So?” He encouraged you, detaching his chin from his hands so he could rest them on his desk “I’m waiting” He smiled gently; a closed-mouth smile that was supposed to calm your nerves, even though you could see how tumultuous his gaze was right now.

It was practically a silent threat.

In a normal situation, the predatory way he was looking at you ─ resembling a wolf when you were nothing but a sheep under his radar ─ would get you… Thinking.

Your job wouldn’t be at stake in a normal situation, though.

The pressure on your toes increased; the subtle way Hyunjin found to snap you out of your mind, despite your silence hanging in there for just a few seconds. It was obvious that he was freaking out just as much as you were, and you couldn’t help but blame him for this. Couldn’t he have told you about it earlier? What the hell was going on inside his mind?! Instead of taunting you about wanting to fuck Bang Chan, he should have warned you about that shit!

That’s not the time for this, Y/N.

The muscles on your face tensed as you tried to not give away everything going through your mind; lips twisting in a tight smile as you looked at Hyunjin: “Yeah, he was right” You answered calmly, even though your stomach was settled on becoming an Olympic athlete right now, “As I was telling him before coming here, Sir, I have someone in mind…” The relief washed over Hyunjin’s face; a genuine smile adorning his features as he withheld a sigh, “I happen to know I.N, and I think I can get us an exclusive” You confessed, shifting your gaze from Hyunjin to Chan.

“The writer?” He blurted out, astonishment plastered all over his face.

“Yeah… They’re a friend of mine…” You trailed off, embarrassed to say it out loud “They’re in the top trending now since their novel will become a drama and…” You cleared your throat, lowering your head to avoid his gaze. There was just so much of acting you could handle for a day, “I mean- It’s… Adult stuff, right? But they never—”

“I know! That’s perfect!” He beamed, getting up from his chair to walk your way “They’ve never been seen! Nobody knows anything about them, Y/N” He laughed ─ he genuinely laughed ─ while clasping his hands together “Han Jisung is good, but I.N is better! This is hot news… FrontPage… How come you never told me about that?” He chuckled, placing his hand on your shoulder “Rest assured that when I get my promotion, I’m gonna have you right here in this room” He promised you in such a serious tone that a shiver ran down your spine.

Rule Number Four: The (kinda horny) true self!

There was not a single soul in the office as you made your way down the hall; eyes focused on the mesmerizing view outside. The sky was colored in purple shades, so deep that you would have mistaken them for black if it weren’t for the dazzling, sleepless city and its dozens of skyscrapers lighting everything up. Not even the full moon would be able to compete with such a beautiful brilliance, but it wouldn’t be necessary either as your gaze was abruptly torn away from the night.

The darkness surrounding you didn’t allow your brain to connect the dots immediately, and you couldn’t help but wonder what happened when you bumped into something. The surface was much softer than a wall, yet firm enough to have you wincing for the impact; eyes snapping to meet the unlucky bastard that stayed until so late. The moonlight kissed his skin just enough for you to recognize the sharp features of your boss; clenched jaw revealing popping veins that distracted you for a fraction of a second.

Your eyes trailed the path from his jaw to his neck, and you couldn’t help but wonder how it tasted like; if you could savor it like the sins you wanted to commit with him. The closeness didn’t work in your favor, and the hint of his scent intoxicated your senses as you connected your gazes. Something must have given you off ─ maybe your hesitation, maybe the lust glinting in your eyes ─ because the next second, Cristopher had his hand placed on your lower back.

The warm sensation grew to a burning feeling as his eyes darkened while diving into yours; his stern, cold gaze contrasting to the feeling of his touch and sending a shiver down your spine. Could he have noticed the way your legs trembled as his grip tightened around you? The look on his face was indecipherable, and the intensity of his gaze made you feel too exposed and vulnerable to keep looking for an answer, so you averted your eyes away from him.

“Weren’t you supposed to come as soon as you got his answer?” The way his voice made its way to your senses had the embarrassment washing over you. The huskiness in his tone made you gulp down ─ throat dry from thirsting over him ─ and the calmness in his sentence alarmed you as it didn’t match the disapproval in his eyes “It’s so late that there is no one else here anymore” He added nonchalantly; mixed signals getting you confused to what he meant by it.

Was it just a way to scold you or was it an invitation?

“I’m sorry, Sir” Despite not having anyone around, you whispered the words as if you could be caught at any moment now, “It took me longer than expected, but we—”

“We?” His eyes were sharp enough to cut you off but the real reason why you couldn’t manage to finish your thoughts was the way he pulled your body impossibly closer to his “Were you with him this whole time?” He hissed right into your ear, letting his hot breath fan over your cold, sensitive skin in a silent threat.

“Working” You corrected, even though he didn’t say anything.

“Working” He hummed in agreement; hand going to tuck your hair behind your ear “As in how we work late at night?” He sneered, manhandling you to press your back against the cold surface of the glass wall that separated his office from the rest of the place “Or is it as in how he wants to work you on his desk?” He scoffed; soft huff almost as degrading as the way he held your cheeks with one hand and guided your eyes to his.

“Neither” You guaranteed breathlessly; voice quivering in excitement.

“Are you going to pretend that you didn’t notice his looks?” He narrowed his eyes at you; his knee making its way to the gap between yours before slowly rising to your thighs, “That you don’t know how much he wants to fuck you?” He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “You better not, ‘cause I know you love it” He warned as he kicked your legs apart.

“He could never fuck me as you do” There was such seriousness in your tone that it had him chuckling, and he nodded in approval before burying his nose in your neck, “I-I’m yours only, Sir… I know my place” You promised quietly, trying not to give away how aroused his jealousy made you feel.

“Yeah…” His raspy laughter tickled your skin, and you muffled a whine as he grazed his teeth over your neck teasingly “But you like being reminded of it, don’t you?” He taunted, taking in your scent in a way that made you feel too small and helpless. He groaned as soon as you let a whimper fall from your lips, and you couldn’t help but struggle to stay still while knowing what was about to come, “Do I have to spell it for you, baby girl?” He snickered before sucking on the tender spot of your skin that he knew too well at this point.

“N-No” Somewhere inside your head, you acknowledged that your reaction was insanely humiliating. He just needed a couple of words spoken in a sultry tone and you couldn’t even form a proper sentence. That was the power he had on you. And you loved it. “Only yours” The rushed tone made him smirk against your neck, stopping his path of kisses for a second to look into your eyes “Sir” You panted; returning his gaze with just as much intensity as he had on his.

“Claim your place” His order was so tantalizing that you didn’t even blink before you finally let your knees give away, losing the support of your legs to earn the support of his thigh, “That’s right… You do remember your place” Somehow, this sounded like the best praise he could ever offer you, even under his amused tone, “But you have been such a bad girl lately…” He pouted as he caressed your cheek; hand stopping to grab your chin gently “And I don’t like bad girls… You know that, right?” He let his thumb reach for your lower lip, fiercely staring at it before grazing his finger on your teeth.

Your answer was as silent as his request; tongue welcoming his thumb before you sucked on his digit. He hummed in appreciation, pushing it inside your mouth as you looked at him with big doe eyes to show a coyness that wasn’t really there within you. The action was followed by a swirl around the tip of his finger; as if to leave in his mouth the taste of what he was missing and prompt him to give you what you really wanted: Him.

If he picked up on your plans, he showed it by giving like for like.

He didn’t say a word as he pressed his thigh against your heat; leaning closer to let his breath fan over your neck once more. He stood like that for what could have been seconds, maybe minutes, but nonetheless time enough for his warmth to creep into your senses. He was like a poison to you; the intoxicating presence clouding your better judgment and destroying any will you had to have him losing control. You didn’t even mind the way he scoffed as you started to grind his leg; brows twisting to shout out a needy plea for release.

“That’s a good girl” He approved, catching your earlobe between his teeth. The moan that fell from your lips was muffled by his finger and he didn’t seem to appreciate it, “I don’t hear you, baby girl” He complained, moving on to your jaw with a path of open-mouthed kisses that weren’t enough to distract you from his other hand “There’s no one here… Be loud for me” He allured you as his hand found its way under your shirt.

The temptation was great… Scream his name as he fucked you senseless in the office... No risk of being caught… Just you, and him, and your dirty little secret…

Your thoughts were all around the place, and you had no hopes of grasping them back as his cold hand brushed your side, contrasting to the warmth under your clothes. The way he touched you made shivers run down your spine; his slow, delicate motion enhancing your senses to every single second of his caresses. You held your breath when his finger finally managed to reach its destination; grazing over your nipple to have you succumbing to his wishes.

You fought it as you could, but you were never much of a fighter.

It was too easy for him to have you under his control, and he knew it. You could tell it by the way he chuckled as soon as you gave away how lost you were at this point. The moan that left your lips came all the way up from your chest, sounding crystal clear in the room as you let your mouth fall agape. Sucking on his finger and following his orders were the last concern you would have for this moment. The only thing worthy of your attention right now was the fact that you couldn’t get as much friction as you needed, and you had to do something about it.

So you grind on his leg for dear life.

“You’re so needy” The mockery didn’t have much effect on your mind anymore, so you just kept sliding up and down his thigh as if that was the only thing that could keep you going “You’re not even listening to me, are you?” He huffed in disbelief; thumb leaving your mouth so he could cup your face “That’s all you can understand, right?” He taunted, pinching your nipple to get your attention again, “Are you still there, baby girl?” He leaned closer to whisper in your ear.

“F-Fuck me” Was the only answer he would get.

“Manners” He warned; licking the sweet spot next to your jaw.

“Fuck me, Sir” You corrected yourself; wrapping your arms around his shoulders to look for some support as you practically bounced on his leg, “Please, fuck me, Sir” You repeated, forehead resting on the crook of his neck as you clawed his back, trying to bring him as close as possible to you.

“Louder” He demanded, and you didn’t need to look at his face to know that he was grinning, “Louder…” He instructed in a tone so low that you could barely hear him over the rustling sounds of fabric against fabric. Your breath hitched as his hand gently caressed your hair; moving some strands away from your face to take a better look at you. However, he didn��t get to see your teary eyes, “Come on, baby… Look at me” He asked in a tantalizing tone, alluring you to try and meet his gaze.

There wasn’t much you could see through your hooded eyes; vision too blurry for you to grasp what was going on inside his mind. You could tell he enjoyed it, though. He always did. That moment when he could pinpoint you had given up on your control, that you weren’t yourself anymore and would be willing to do whatever he asked… He lived for it, for that rebellious flame of self-control extinguishing from your eyes.

For who you become when lust overcomes you.

The grip on his hair wasn’t unexpected, and Cristopher offered you a small, wicked smile before you connected your lips. The kiss was messy and hurried; tongues exploring every corner they could find while your hands were occupied on getting rid of your clothes. Neither of you cared about anything else but feeling each other’s bodies as you ripped your shirts. The cold breeze hitting your bare skin wasn’t enough to cool down the heat consuming you, but it was enough to have you squirming and whining.

“Beautiful” Was the only thing he said before pushing your back against the glass and adjusting his grip to take your nipple between his teeth. The groan that escaped your lips was almost animalistic, prompting him to answer with a grunt of his own as he sucked on your skin. The vibrations ran from your flesh to your core, enticing another moan that seemed to fall into deaf ears, “Louder, baby… I want him to hear you…” He pleaded, letting go of your breast just to grope it and give you a kitten lick on the next second “To know who made you like this…” He added before sucking on it again.

Perhaps it was the fact that he thrust on you, just to tease your senses and make you thirstier. Perhaps it was the fact you had to support yourself on just one leg as he pushed his hips against yours and you tried to seek for your balance by involving his leg with yours. Perhaps it was his hand sliding to meet your clothed core; finger pressing against your clit to add a delicious, needed stimulus for your orgasm.

Perhaps it was the words that slipped through his lips.

“W-What did you say?” You panted; hips faltering as you tried to keep riding him, but steading their pace as his finger circled your clit to goad you “M-Mhm… S-Sir” You cried; hand burying in his hair to pull it and translate the utter bliss waving down your body. The string of mewls and urgent pleas spilled from you like a chant, getting him more eager than before, “P-Please” You whined, even though you weren’t sure what you were asking for.

“Hold it” He ordered; straightening his back to look right into your eyes, but failing as yours rolled back to your head. His hand made its way to squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to look at him with a soft shake to catch your attention “Look at me” It sounded like a warning; stern enough for you to try your best to focus on him, “You’ll only cum when he walks right through that door… Do you understand?” He searched for any signs of stubbornness in your eyes, but his smile showed he didn’t found any.

“W-Who?” You managed to ask; body trembling as you tried to hold every single string inside your mind in place, even though each one of them was ready to snap and unravel the crashing pleasure that was building up.

“Why does it matter?” He scoffed, quickening his pace as the unmistakable ring of the elevator sounded on the room “You love being seen, don’t you?” He chuckled, watching as your body shook violently and your knees started to give away to the sensations running down your body.

“Y-Yes, Sir” You could bet your voice echoed inside the building, and Christopher seemed to agree with you as he grinned in approval.

“So look at your guest, baby… And scream my name” He instructed, pushing your face to the side. The doors opened slowly, revealing the lights inside the small cubicle right in front of your eyes “Let him know who you belong to” He whispered in your ear; hand pushing your underwear aside so his finger could come in contact with your core.

The mysterious figure detached from the corners of the metallic walls to finally reveal himself. You met his eyes for a half of a second; enough time for you to recognize the one who worked with you every single day of your life. For the past few years. Someone who would be your partner for years to come, and who would witness and engrave your face in your most vulnerable moment.

You came hard; probably the most overwhelming orgasm you had ever had in your life. It was impossible to hold back your voice, and you couldn’t help but howl his name; legs shaking and body collapsing into your boss’ arms. You squirmed and whimpered as you tried to recompose yourself; letting him help you ride you out of your orgasm and occupying yourself by staring into your coworker’s shocked eyes.

“Thank you, Sir…” You breathed out, gripping his arms for dear life while the shame sank into your soul.

Rule Number Five: The (grateful and satisfied) fans!

And… Post.

Oh, well… You did it. Again. There was something about displaying your deepest fantasies for anyone to see that was kinda thrilling to you. Your heart raced inside your chest just like a drum ─ well, if a goddamn drummer decided to do a solo but was too offbeat, to begin with ─ and you couldn’t help but stare blankly at the page without a clue of what to do now. It was out there… Why didn’t anyone say anything yet? Was it that bad? Should you delete it?

Well… People have to read it before commenting, you know?

Yeah, right… You just posted it.

Chill.

You licked your lips before biting them; feeling the rush that was posting about your boss online when no one else knew about it. If you were being honest, the best part of this wasn’t having the chance to live your fantasies throughout your writing. No. The best part was knowing that only you knew the true identity of Christopher… Or what you really wanted to do to him while he walked down the hallway. The best part was that no one would ever figure out that you were the author of the bestselling novel of the moment… That this steamy romance between boss and employee was nothing but your rawest desire.

Who would think that the boring, shy girl from the office would be a smut writer? Who would think that you would have a horny, interesting secret identity? No one else but you.

And this was priceless.

Or maybe… It was priceless.

As far as you knew, every single thing you cherished about being a secretive horny bitch could go down the drain tomorrow. It would be all fine if it was just a… Well, actually everything would suck. How would you look at Chan’s face if he knew you were writing about having sex with your boss while he was your boss? What would you do if they decided to fire you because of it? What would you do with your life from now on?!

Don’t panic, Y/N.

You had everything under control… Tomorrow morning you would be going to Jeongin’s house and interview him as if he were you. No one would ever suspect you after that. You would save your ass, Hyunjin’s ass, and Chan’s ass. And that was it. The perfect plan. Nothing to worry about. Just trust Jeongin to follow your script and make sure everything would go as planned.

Flawless. Totally safe. Perfect.

That’s right…

You just need to take a deep breath and rela—

The sudden sound caught you off guard; eyes focusing on the screen once again so you could understand what was going on. All of your worries vanished away as soon as you saw the notification on the top of it; announcing that you had just got a message from a fan.

Finally!

The weasel icon was so familiar that you chuckled while opening the message; a smile plastering over your face as you let your eyes wander around the words. There was nothing more fulfilling to your writer ass than seeing the way Weasel always had something to say about your story. Sometimes, he’d give you some feedback on your style. Other times, he’d freak out about how much he wanted to “try those things out”, as he usually said. There were also times when he’d just get excited over the characters and their conflicts, which always got you laughing.

It was fun to talk to Weasel.

He was just as mysterious as you… There was no name to his face, and also no face to his icon, but both of you were friends anyway. He had been keeping up with your stuff from such an early stage that it felt natural to have him around and getting his feedback. It was so comfortable, that you didn’t even mind when he slid in your DMs, embarrassed to let anyone else know that your smut made him… Feel things. There was no need to elaborate on what he did about those feelings or those things. But it was kinda hot to know he enjoyed himself throughout your fantasies.

His fantasies.

Well… For the number of times that you used them to write your stories, it was some sort of shared fantasies by now. As a matter of fact, you never intended to make Christopher a jealous character but Weasel made the idea seem too hot for you to ignore. Sometimes, he’d open up about that girl from his work that he really liked and how jealous he was of the guy she liked and then… Well, it felt… Interesting.

The thought of being desirable to the point a guy would want to claim you as his like this? Not that Weasel did it. He actually just mentioned that he hoped she was into this as a kink. You couldn’t help but picture the way he would touch her in such a greedy way… The possessiveness blinding him for a second… The grip tightening… The mean words and the humiliation… Oh, the sweet humiliation that would crush you as he whispered how much you would cum for him… How he was the only one who could make you like that… How he would ask you to say his name… To tell him that you were his…

You could drink holy water and still be shaking just by picturing it.

“That was such a good chapter… I didn’t expect you to use her friend like that. I thought it was a given that she’d end up with Chris” You read out loud, chuckling when he reached for your DMs to talk to you “Will we get a threesome or something, miss? 😏” He joked on the next line and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at this “I’m waiting for it”

“You’re just a horny bitch, aren’t you?” You typed, smirking as you stared at his messages “No spoilers for you, though, baby boy… You’ll have to wait like everybody else” Teasing him was always funny, and he never failed to amuse you.

“I’m not the one writing porn online” He pointed out, and before he could write anything else you shot him.

“Yeah but you’re the one getting off to it” You retorted, getting a whole set of gasping and shocked emotes that had you laughing.

“I have no words to express how offended I am” You chortled, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Alright, Drama Llama” Why was it so fun to mock him? You wished you could actually meet him offline and banter like this in real life “To fill your horny ass, I might write a dom!reader next time… I was thinking about torturing the 2nd lead a bit”

“First of all… I don’t think I want my ass filled, thank you for offering tho” Why was he like this? “And I was just joking” You frowned at that, confused by what he meant “Don’t you think that a threesome doesn’t go along with the characters? Her friend likes her a lot and Christopher is just a kinky son of a bitch… I thought he’d just show him that she was his and be an ass as usual”

“What do you have against Chris, dude?” You rolled your eyes, although he wouldn’t be able to see it, “He’s way better than her friend! At least, he does something about her”

“I have the 2nd male lead syndrome! You know that!” You chortled, very aware of this, “And isn’t that the perfect opportunity for him to do something about it?! I mean… I don’t want to be nosey but having a threesome is way out of character for them” He pointed out, and you had to admit he was right.

“No, you’re not nosey…” You sighed; shoulders dropping for a second “It’s just that I’m upset about something that happened at work today and you know that projecting my problems on those characters is my thing” You pursed your lips, staring at the keyboard for a few seconds before deciding to continue “Besides, I’m about to spend an entire day with a guy that kinda inspired the 2nd lead and… I don’t really want to think about a sex scene with him, you know?” You confessed.

“But thinking about torturing and having a threesome with him is easy” He mocked you.

“That’s because that threesome would never happen” You sent it before you could think about what you had just written.

“Ooohhhh!” Holy shit… The amount of emotes he had just dumped on that chat couldn’t be a good sign, “So having sex with this guy is something you want?! And that could happen?! ” Great, now you would have a Drama Llama-Weasel trying to get some juicy gossip about your inexistent sex life… WORSE! Your sex life with your nemesis! “Why don’t you go for it? I’m sure he’s into you if he’s anything like his character” Poor thing… He had no idea.

“Shut up, it’s not like that” You brushed it off.

“If you say so” You could almost hear him snickering, even though you didn’t know how his voice sounded like “I’ll just have you regretting this for the rest of the night” You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief. He was unbearable! “I have work early tomorrow but I’m gonna come back with questions, Miss… Wait for me”

“What I meant is that it’d be easier to happen than having a threesome, not that I want it to happen, moron” You defended yourself but he didn’t even get to read it as he logged off right away.

Great… He would never let you live it down.

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Rebloggable Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Tag List

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marvelsuperfangirl · 2 years

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Stalker

Alex Summers x Reader

A/N: Don’t ask me what I was thinking when writing this, I had this idea a few years ago and the fic was sleeping in my marvel writings file since then... I think thought it wasn’t that bad, so I wanted to share it anyway.

Whispers and footsteps where the only sounds that filled the area. Around a few students were silently working on their assignments or simply taking advantage of the quiet atmosphere reigning in the library. As every school library, drinks and food were forbidden, but in the case of Xavier’s it was also forbidden to use your mutation in this place.

And exactly like every young people on this planet, rules weren’t their favourite thing. After all, aren’t the rules made to be broken ? It wasn’t so much the food nor the drinks that was brought to the library that bothered, honestly, most of the students had a snack with them to help them get some energy to learn. Unfortunately, regarding the use of special abilities, it quickly got out of hand. Some use telekinesis to make a book fly to their place, or send a paper plane to their friends, that was pretty harmless, but still, it was breaking the rules !

The library was your favourite place to be, because it was so quiet ; and since no one really respected the food rule, you took the opportunity to even eat lunch there when you were alone at that time of the day. But one particular person and I’m talking about one that loves breaking the rules, decided to bother your alone time.

Your library schedule was most of the time the same, except for some moment, like in the evening when you’d decide to go there unannounced. It hasn’t been hard for Alex to notice when you would come here, and he ‘d be there at least 10 minutes earlier so it would seem as if he wasn’t stalking you.

Except that the guy was in a library but seem to never have step in one, he always, at a desk close to yours but not too close and took the habit of drowning an energy drink can, letting the gas noisily escape. He never read, or write or do anything really, he just sat there, looking around, but mostly at you.

Sometimes, you would notice when you looked up from what you were doing but otherwise, you weren’t paying attention to his presence much. He was a nice person, when the two of you crossed path in the mansion, you woud salute each other and talk like friends would. But this, was your time where you only wanted quiet and serenity and not a guy watching you creepily nor trying to get your attention.

Another evening, a cozy one at that, which meant, cozy clothes, headphones blasting a relaxing music, typing quickly on your laptop and enjoying a thermos of hot chocolate. You had noticed Alex, sitting two tables away from yours, clearly feigning reading a book, ‘cause even from where you were, you noticed that itw as held upside down.

From the cute guy checking you out, he passed to the pro stalker, creeping you out.

As you looked up, your gaze met his for the umpteenth time tonight, before he looked back down to his misplaced book.

With a sight, you took off your headphones and put them down, decided to know what was up with that guy.

« Why the hell are you stalking me in the library for ? » you blurted out.

He looked around as if you were talking to someone else in the empty library ?

« I’m talking to you, Summers ! »

It was clear on his face that he’d been exposed and didn’t know what to imagine to get out of that tricky situation.

« Uh… I was just reading a book. It’s just a coincidence… »

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back in your seat.

«So you’re saying it’s a coincidence that you’re always in the library when I am, that you’re staring at me everytime and you’re surely a genius if you can read a book upside down » you threw your hand, gesturing at his book.

He looked down awkwardly and closed the book, setting it on the table, like nothing happened.

« I thought it would work, you know… The « Oh what a coincidence » technique in the rom coms to get the girl. Did it work at least a little bit ? »

Even though his starkerish activities had been exposed, the guy dared to smirk and act flirtatious !

« Nobody liked to be stalked you know. »

You saw his expression fall before you assembled your stuff, stood up from your chair then made your way to the exit of the library.

As you were approaching Alex’s table, your instincts were telling you not to drop it there or you’ll regret it.

With a incoming blush and embarrassment, you dared speak

« But you’re lucky you’re hot » you muttered quikcly before speed walking out of the room, leaving a confused young man, whose smile broke out on his face at your hint at a second chance.

#marvel imagine #x-men #alex summers #alex summers x reader #alex summers imagine #fluff

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animebw · 2 years

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Short Reflection: Fall 2021 Anime

Is anyone else still reeling from how incredible anime has been this year? Because holy fucking shit, anime has been incredible this year. Whatever else you could say about 2021, it did not leave us wanting for superb animation. From top-tier adaptations of worthy source material to exhilarating original projects bursting with talent and ambition to epic conclusions to some of this medium’s most enduring masterpieces, you couldn’t swing your arms without bumping into a masterpiece or two. This year was so fucking good that the final Evangelion Rebuild just barely made it onto my top 10 list, and it might not even remain there once Jojo’s Part 6 finishes and I can accurately score it. I don’t know if 2022 will keep this hot streak up, but if nothing else, at least this year gave us plenty of truly spectacular anime to enjoy while the world continues to burn around us. So let’s send the year off with a bang and talk about all the shows I watched this fall, and which ones deserve to stand among 2021′s greatest hits.

Mushoku Tensei Season 2: 3.5/10

It’s easy to despair about the state of the anime industry. Everyone is overworked, every production is overtaxed, animators are being exploited to churn out increasingly inferior results, and even truly great projects like Wonder Egg and 86 are unable to match their ambitions without descending into production hell. As much good anime is being made these days, it’s never felt more impossible for truly worthwhile shows to survive the medium’s current hypercapitalist hellscape. But every once in a while, a show comes a long that defies the odds. A show that’s put together by a talented team bursting with love for the story they’re telling, given the time and resources they need to polish it to a mirror shine without literally working themselves to death. A show that breaks through the miasma of mediocrity to touch on emotions and themes so raw and human that it’s impossible to look away. A show that marries massive ambitions with the talent necessary to bring them to life, resulting in what can only be described as a genuine work of art. There’s just one problem: the protagonist of this show is a pedophile who literally tries to rape a child twice and suffers no lasting consequences for it. Mushoku Tensei, the godfather of the worst genre to ever be inflicted upon anime, is now one of the most beloved properties in the entire medium. Out of so many productions that fall apart and big dreams ground to dust, this is the show that emerges unscathed by the industry’s ravages to become its new standard bearer. May god have mercy on us all.

My Senpai is Annoying: 4.5/10

Technically speaking, there’s nothing really wrong with My Senpai is Annoying. It’s a harmless enough office rom-com with charming enough characters and pretty enough production values, nothing outstanding but nothing remarkably terrible either. However, there’s one thing about it that absolutely drives me up the fucking wall: this is ostensibly a show about working adults, but it presents that adult world no differently than any standard-issue juvenile high school rom-com. Characters get flustered over the mere mention of Valentine’s Day, the protagonist has a childish complex over her boobs not being big, everyone grapples with their emotions like they’re hormonal teenagers falling in love for the first time, and every emotional moment has all the maturity of To Love-Ru minus the fanservice (this show does have some fanservice, and it’s just as distractingly juvenile as everything else). It feels like it’s trying to have it both ways, but all that accomplishes is making the overdone rom-com tropes feel even more exhausting than usual, as they’re showing up in a context they clearly don’t belong in. I came here for a more sophisticated experience, not for the same goddamn thing I can find in countless other shows. And then the plot starts overfocusing on the boring side couple at the expense of Futaba and Takeda’s enjoyably prickly chemistry, and whatever interest I still had quickly dribbled away. This show may not be as annoying as its titular character, but it’s nowhere near interesting enough to be worth checking out.

Takt op.Destiny: 5/10

I have a soft spot for dumb fun. Oversized weapons, nonsensical battles, characters who seem to exist only for the sake of being as ridiculous as possible... I live for this kind of junk food. So by all rights, I really should’ve liked Takt op.Destiny. A cast of bickering idiots travel across post-apocalyptic Americana, fighting music-based monsters by transforming into glam rock idols and blowing shit up? That kind of anime-branded nonsense sounds right up my alley. Unfortunately, while the first episode is exactly as bombastic and over-the-top as I was hoping it would be, the show quickly devolves into the least interesting version of itself, more concerned with doling out dull worldbuilding and trite backstory than having fun with its own inherent silliness. Too much time is spent on characters just sitting around and explaining things, trying to make us care about a world and emotional stakes that were just never going to be interesting. There’s a reason Symphogear stuffed all its lore into supplementary reading: because every second spent boring the audience with stupidly overcomplicated, proper-noun-filled word salad is a second that could be better spent punching a mountain in half or suplexing a spaceship. Dumb fun requires the confidence to actually be dumb, and while Takt has enough giddy ridiculousness that I don’t regret my time with it, I wish it had the courage to actually embrace its own stupidity. But I guess that’s what happens when you’re more concerned with advertising an upcoming gacha game than providing an entertaining experience in your own right.

Tesla Note: 5.5/10

Okay, look: Tesla Note is a mess. The plot is a barely coherent mess of cliches, the CG animation is all kinds of awkward, the integration of traditional 2D elements is some of the worst I’ve ever seen, and it shatters suspension of disbelief so often that suspension of disbelief should really sue it for assault. But it’s genuinely a fun show, god dammit. And not even in a so-bad-it’s-good way; this show has a lot of actual strengths! It’s got great character banter, and a lot of its gags really catch you off guard. The mishmash of overblown spy movie tropes comprising its story knows not to take itself seriously and just has fun throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks. And honestly? Even the CG doesn’t look half-bad most of the time, thanks to some very slick direction and mocap-assisted character animation. Yes, the amateurish production certainly makes it easier to laugh at than laugh with, but the more I got sucked into its kooky energy, the more I found myself enjoying Tesla Note on its own terms, not in spite of itself. It certainly doesn’t deserve the many Ex-Arm comparisons thrown its way, I can promise you that. So if you’re in the mood to turn your brain off and enjoy some quality dumb fun after Takt op.Destiny let you down, give Tesla Note a shot; it might just surprise you.

Mieruko-Chan: 5.5/10

This is a show that can be summed up in a single question: who got this tasteless fanservice in my horror comedy? From such a silly premise as a ghost-seeing girl who tries to avoid pissing off the afterlife by pretending not to see it, Mieruko-chan manages to grow into something far more complex than one might expect. Not only is the horror genuinely creepy, but it finds smart ways to wring real emotional weight out of Miko’s encounters with the dead and the unfinished business that keeps them bound to earth. And the story that develops in the background raises countless fascinating questions about the ultimate nature of ghosts in this world, and what Miko’s place might be among them. It’s a mesmerizing stew of pathos and mystery that sucks you deeper and deeper... only to slap you right back out with a completely misplaced shot of Miko’s pajama pants vacuum-sealed to her ass or her friend’s giant boobs flopping around like water balloons. These all-too-frequent shots come out of nowhere with no justification, often right in the middle of otherwise genuinely tense scenes, and drive so many of this show’s strengths straight into the gutter. How am I supposed to take this stuff seriously when the camera keeps shoving my face in barely concealed teen cameltoe for literally no reason except to do so? Why would you soil an otherwise good show with this shit? Why can’t anime just fucking STOP sometimes???

The Faraway Paladin: 6/10

As your friendly neighborhood isekai hater, it can be exhausting watching so many equally garbage isekai come out every season and suck up all the attention. So imagine my delight to discover that one of this season’s isekai was actually good! The Faraway Paladin is one of very few isekai that feels like it’s actually trying to tell an honest-to-god fantasy story, not just a hollow parade of wish-fulfillment JRPG tropes. The world itself is fleshed out, the story that builds out of its lore is some quality D&D adventure stuff, and the protagonist Will manages to be a truly good person while still having an actual personality. And the emotional hook of its first arc, detailing Will’s childhood growing up with his adopted family after being reincarnated into this world, is so strong it genuinely drove me to tears by the end. Unfortunately, there are two critical issues that hold it back from greatness. The first problem is that aside from a scarce few moments where Will reflects on his past life, I don’t understand why this needed to be an isekai. I know that’s all the market cares about these days, but I feel like this story would almost work better as a straightforward fantasy. The second- and much more pressing- problem is that the production is just not that good. Aside from the animation rarely rising above “just barely competent,” a lot of story is either skipped over or breezed through in unengaging voiceover montages, making the world feel so much smaller than it should. I hope the upcoming second season improves on this foundation, because I so desperately want Faraway Paladin to be great, and it’s just not there yet.

Sakugan: 6.5/10

Sakugan is the latest victim of what I’ve decided to dub the Princess Principal effect. It comes out swinging with a top-tier first episode that immediately hooks you by the balls and gets you unbelievably hyped for the ride to come, only to quickly settle into a groove of comfortable okay-ness that never quite measures up to the greatness it showed in those opening moments. It even shares PriPri’s controversial decision to end inconclusively, leaving the door open for future sequels rather than try to wrap up the whole story in a single cours. Thankfully, just because it’s not great doesn’t mean it’s not good. It’s an eclectic blend of Gurren Lagann, Made in Abyss and Deca-Dence, and it wears that off-kilter energy proudly on its sleeve. From its quirky, snarky sense of adventure to the hints of darker secrets just under the surface, from its genuinely really damn good dramatic moments to the bickering, loving father-daughter relationship at its core, Sakugan is a show with a charm cribbed from many inspirations but remixed into something all its own. I desperately hope it gets the sequel it’s shooting for; if it tightens up its uneven episodic storytelling and makes good on the potential its plot has shown, I think this show could end up being pretty damn awesome when all is said and done. Until then, though, this first foray into a subterranian wonderland is well worth checking out.

Blue Period: 7/10

Blue Period is proof positive that strong direction can overcome weak animation. Seven Arcs is a thoroughly mediocre studio in terms of production values, and this show is lousy with flat environments, off-model characters, and scenes that barely have a scrap of movement in them. But thanks to the expressive camerawork and evocative color choices of director Kouji Masunaru, not to mention an excellent soundtrack from Ippei Inoue, the story’s emotions are still mostly able to bleed through the screen like paint on a canvas. And that’s good, because this tale of a listless high school delinquent discovering a passion for art is one that deserves to resonate so deeply. It’s a touching, nuanced exploration of what it means to come of age, to understand what you want out of life, to discover something you love to do and undergo the painful process of learning as much about it as possible. It may be about the art world and art school specifically, but anyone who’s ever tried to turn a hobby into a career will find it deeply relatable. Oh, and it also has one of my new favorite trans characters ever. Yuka is a fucking queen and I would both kill and die for her, no questions asked.

86 Eighty-Six Season 2: 8/10

How badly does an anime production have to fall apart before you have to delay three episodes in a row for an extra week? To eat up all your time slots in the process and thus be forced to delay your last two episode for an entire season? I don’t know what the hell was going on at A-1 Pictures with the second half of 86, but someone should be fired for how badly this season was handled. Thankfully, this isn’t a Wonder Egg Priority situation; there’s still trustworthy source material to adapt from, and the team is being open about the reasons for these delays instead of trying to brush them under the rug. So I remain hopeful that when those final two episodes arrive in March, they’ll be just as good as the show that’s proceeded them. Because even with such a nightmare going on behind the scenes, holy fuck is this show good. Losing the genius bisected episode structure from the first half could’ve easily sucked the life out of the proceedings, but instead, the story’s just expanded in even more exciting directions. Shin, Lena, and all the rest are in uncharted territory now, and it’s up to them to grapple with the increasingly impossible questions the war has left them with. How does one overcome an entrenched system of oppression? Who does a soldier who dedicates his life to fighting become when the fighting stops? How do we change the world for the better without destroying ourselves, or everyone around us, with our weaknesses? There are no easy answers, but as long as the struggle to answer them remains this compelling- and the mecha action backing them up this kickass- then I think 86 is going to remain a must-watch for a very long time to come. Just please, next season, give the animators they time they need to get everything done, okay? We really can’t afford any more awful business practices becoming the norm in this industry.

Ranking of Kings (1st Half): 8.5/10

Like most of you, I almost overlooked Ranking of Kings. There were so many other quality shows to keep track of this season, and the art style seemed so childish, that I breezed over it on the seasonal charts and forgot all about it until I saw people raving about the first episode. Readers, do not make the same mistake I did. If you miss out on Ranking of Kings, you’ll be missing out on one of the best damn fantasy anime we’ve gotten in the past few years. Young prince Boji is deaf and mute, underestimated by everyone and everything, including his own family. But he remains determined to grow up into a great king, and he’ll stop at nothing to overcome the obstacles in his way and cultivate a strength all his own. To say more would spoil the fun, but suffice to say, what starts out looking like a simple take of perseverance in the face of discrimination quickly reveals itself to be something more akin to Game of Thrones as filtered through a family-friendly picture-book vibe. There’s enough political backstabbing, morally ambiguous characters, and sinister black magic here to put Westeros to shame, and the gorgeous storybook art style (and equally gorgeous production values from the always god-tier studio WIT) turns out to be the perfect contrast for that darkness to bounce off of. This show is equal parts wholesome and horrifying, feel-good and skin-crawling, striking the perfect balance between the corny charm of Boji’s underdog struggle and the dark secrets bubbling up from underneath the kingdom’s surface. At times it has trouble staying focused, resulting in Boji himself being sidelined for a few too many subplots, but that’s a minor ding against an otherwise rapturous experience. This is stellar fantasy, stellar artistry, and stellar disabled rep all in one package, and I encourage you all not to let first impressions put you off it as they did with me. Give it two episodes, and I promise you, you’ll never underestimate this young prince again.

The Aquatope on White Sand (2nd Half): 8.5/10

It’s a sad fact that Aquatope’s second half isn’t nearly as strong as its first. With the impending closure of Gama Gama no longer driving the plot, the show takes way too long finding a new source of tension and forward momentum. It meanders through too many sluggish episodes that don’t feel like they’re building toward something meaningful like the show’s first half did, and it irks me how Fuuka is mostly relegated to a support character instead of continuing to share the co-protagonist role with Kukuru. And yet... once this half figures out where it’s going and why, it’s some of the most achingly powerful stuff in a show that’s already landed too many beautiful moments to count. I’ve recently entered the adult workforce myself, and watching Kukuru’s struggle with her new job at Tingaara Aquarium was like staring in a mirror of all my darkest moments over the past few months. The stress of new responsibility, the exhaustion of losing my youthful freedom, the deep existential despair of no longer knowing if there’s a place in the world where I can be truly happy... fucking hell, it’s been a long time since I’ve empathized with a character this deeply. And Aquatope dives headfirst into that darkness with the same clarity, suffering, and hope that made its first half such a triumph. So even though it took too long to really reach that point, and even though I’m sad it didn’t end up gay after all (not like that’s gonna stop me from headcanoning it, of course), I’m still confident in calling Aquatope one of the best anime of the year. This show is truly special to me, and I cannot recommend it enough to anyone who wants to restore their faith in the inherent beauty of being alive.

Komi-san Can’t Communicate: 9/10

Some shows take a bit to grow on you. Some shows build your investment in them over time with careful attention to detail. And some shows come right out swinging with a first episode so fucking phenomenal that you fall madly in love before the credits even start rolling. From the moment that chalkboard conversation drove me to tears, I knew Komi-san Can’t Communicate was going to be one of the best anime of 2021, and it proved me right every step of the way. This is the story of the jaw-droppingly beautiful, socially paralyzed Komi Shouko, who can barely even get through a single word of conversation without freezing up, and Tadano HItohito, the dorkily sincere dude who resolves to help her work through her anxiety and make 100 friends. Their adorkable chemistry instantly makes for one of the best rom-com couples in recent memory, and the eccentric cast of characters surrounding them results in what I can only describe as an anime sugar bomb. It’s been far too long since we’ve gotten a rom-com this fucking hilarious, with countless belly-laughs popping off a mile a minute. And the astounding production is just as capable of rattling off a barrage of rapid-fire sight gags as it is draping its quieter moments in an almost movie-quality level of lavish animation. It’s equal parts gut-busting and squee-inducing, making me cackle like a maniac and beam in giddy delight at every step of Komi’s journey to throw herself into connecting with people, paralyzing anxiety be damned. It does, sadly, strike the occasional sour note in its madcap rush of comedy; everything about Yamai’s psychotic lesbian trope should’ve been put to pasture years ago. But that’s a small price to pay for a show that makes me smile hard enough to make my cheeks hurt on a regular basis. Komi-san is an absolute triumph of feel-good filmmaking, and I get the feeling this is one show we’re gonna be talking about for years to come. So hop on board before the second season airs and discover for yourself why this diabetes injection stands tall as one of the top competitors in a very, very good year for anime.

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gracelessfighters · 4 years

Text

don’t feel (3)

JJ Maybank x female reader

Masterlist

Part one // Part two // — // Part four

Summary: JJ comes to check on you after the disastrous kegger, finding you doing chores in the early hours of the morning

Word count: 1.9k (shorter than the others as its more of a filler chapter)

Warnings: abuse, mentions of abuse, blood, swearing, (nothing else?)

——- I am in no way romanticising abuse if you have any issues with my writing pls message me

A/N: this isnt my best i’m sorry but reading through it i wasn’t sure where to change it, and because its acting as more of a filler it’s not hugely important anyway - but next part should be all fluff i hope so i’m looking forward to writing it :)) // as always feedback is appreciated

“I can explain!” You exclaimed, hands out defensively as your parents stood up from your bed.

Both your mum and dad crossed their arms, the tapping of your mum’s foot being the only noice in the room for a few seconds, “Okay then young lady, explain.” Your mum said expectantly.

“I needed some fresh air, and I knew you were asleep downstairs mum,” you looked at the floor away from her piercing gaze, “so I didn’t want to wake you and left through my window I’m sorry.”

“You ‘went out for some air’ looking like that?” Your dad waved his hand at your outfit and ruined makeup, his eyebrows raised.

“I- um, was wearing this already and I was upset.” You knew your excuse was getting progressively worse, the lies you were telling getting harder and harder to believe, but you still wanted to try.

Without warning your mum’s hand connected with your face, “Don’t lie to us! We’re not stupid.”

You cupped your face in shock, trying to hold back the tears that were already threatening to spill out of your eyes. “I’m sorry, what can I do to make up for it?”

“Stop lying to us for one you little bitch.” Your dad spat at you, grabbing your wrist in an excruciatingly tight grip.

Your mum nodded her agreement, not even caring about the look of pain on your face as your dad began dragging you along towards the bathroom.

“Get cleaned up and then go and clean the pool.”

“But its the middle of the night-“

“You said you wanted some fresh air didn’t you? At leat you’re being helpful by doing this.” He shoved you into the bathroom, ignoring the way you tripped over your feet and fell, hitting the edge of the sink with your head on the way down.

The door slammed behind you, and just like that, the floodgates seemed to open for what felt like the fiftieth time that night. How do you have enough water left in your body for even more crying?

You lifted your hand up to where it had come into contact with the sink, pulling back when you felt a warm liquid, and even though your vision was blurry from the tears - it was obvious it was blood.

“Shit.” You reached for the sink, pulling yourself up from the floor so you could properly look into the mirror behind it.

Realising you had to fix this up before it got worse, you ran the tap, splashing some cold water on your face to get rid of some of the make up and combat the tears, and went into the cupboard searching for a clean piece of cloth to hold up against the wound.

Standing in front of the mirror, a small towel held up against the cut to stop the bleeding, you examined yourself and the only words that could describe you right now was ‘a fucking mess’.

After several minutes you removed the towel, happy to see that the bleeding had slowed almost completely, and so began clearing the rest of yourself up, starting with removing the make up stains across your whole face. Once you felt and looked less like someone who had been crying for the whole night, you quietly left the bathroom and changed into some leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. You didn’t want to go and do some chores at this time of night but you weren’t going to upset your parents again as they had almost gone easy on you tonight.

Heading downstairs you heard your parent’s bedroom door shut, one of them had probably been waiting to make sure you go outside.

You had never liked the shed where all the pool cleaning stuff was stored, it was something about the spiders that lived in there that had always freaked you out, scared one would fall on you if you moved something. Taking a few deep breaths to try and prepare yourself, you stepped into the small wooden building, sidestepping over a broken spade and grabbed the equipment you needed.

Your pool wasn’t huge like some on this street, but it was still big enough to be a pain in the ass to clean, you threw the equipment on the floor, grabbing a net to remove all the leaves and bugs that had fallen into the water and began the cleaning process.

It took about 10 minutes to remove all the debris, and as you turned your attention to brushing some dirt off the walls, you heard movement behind you. In most situations you would assume this was one of your parents, but for once without a doubt you knew it wasn’t them as you were facing the house and there had been no movement inside.

Your heart was racing, this was like some sort of crime show where you get murdered and left to bleed out in your pool - no you weren’t going to let your thoughts head down that road, it was probably a cat or something, yeah something harmless, you slowly began to convince yourself.

You began to turn around, the brush you were holding close to your chest ready for its debut as a weapon if needed, when your heart leapt out of your skin at the tall figure you were met with.

As you lifted the brush, ready to strike, you realised you knew the figure, his deep blue eyes staring at you, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“What the fuck!” You say, wary you can’t be any louder in case your parents hear, “Did you follow me home or something?”

He held up his hands in surrender, “I didn’t follow you home, but I might’ve asked someone where you lived.”

“That’s not any less creepy JJ if I’m being honest - why did you come to my house?”

“Well I was going to make sure you were okay and maybe play out a rom com situation where I talk to you at your window, but instead it seems to be one of the classic porn scenarios, not that I’m complaining.” He smirked at you.

You roll your eyes in disgust, “Get your head out the gutter. And as you can see I’m fine so please leave.”

“I hear you say fine, but it’s the early hours of the morning and you’re cleaning a pool, as well as some sort of head injury that I can feel by the way, so I’m going with you’re not fine.” He raises his eyebrows at you in question.

Fuck, you’d forgotten about that recent development, annoyed there was now someone you could never hide your pain from, for better or worse.

“I’m cleaning because after my disaster of a night, I couldn’t get to sleep so I thought this would help clear my mind, and its a small cut from where I fell in the bathroom and hit my head because I’m clumsy. That good enough for you?” You were almost proud of how easily you could lie to people, but in fairness you had fell in the bathroom so that one wasn’t exactly a lie, more of an omission of the whole truth.

JJ nodded to himself, “We’re gonna have to talk about it at some point.”

“Talk about what?” You asked, worried he might’ve not believed what you’d said and was making theories about your home life.

“The soulmate thing.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, “yeah probably, although there’s not much to say.”

He let out a small chuckle, “Well this is going to be harder than I thought, you’re not one for being emotional and open are you?”

“Not really no,” you couldn’t help but laugh a little at yourself, “but I understand we might need to get to know each other now.”

“Great.” He stepped towards you, smiling, “Should we start now?”

“We’ve already clarified I’m cleaning a pool, do you need your eyes checked or something?”

He raised his eyebrows at the way your words dripped with sarcasm, “I think my eyes are fine baby, I guess we’ll have to reschedule to tomorrow then.”

“I guess we do.” You respond, trying to ignore the way your stomach fluttered when he called you baby, especially because he was clearly trying to get a rise out of you.

“Alright, can you surf?”

“How will that help us to get to know each other?”

“You learn a lot surfing with someone, and it means we spend most of the day together - so can you surf?”

You consider telling him that you couldn’t, but you were actually pretty good and this could be an opportunity to show him up - and because he was your soulmate you really did want to get to know him, you were just too stubborn to admit it at the moment.

“Yeah I can blondie, hope you’re ready to be put to shame.” You laughed.

“Oh I cant wait,” he smiled at you, “I’ll meet you at the beach at ten?”

“Ten’s good for me, and hey maybe we’ll both actually sleep before then.”

“Alright,” he looked like he wanted to step closer to you but instead settled on a small wave, “I’ll see you then.”

He gave you one last smile before turning away and heading back out of your garden, and as you watched him leave and thought about your “date” tomorrow your heart quickened.

——

As JJ walked away from you he smiled to himself, he had never met someone like you - anyone he’d ever been with he either hadn’t got to know or they didn’t excite him in the way he wanted. The only person he’d ever considered to date was Kie as she knew some of the darkest things about him and stayed around and she joked around with him nicely, but he realised pretty quickly that she was better to have as a friend.

He’d only ever seen you a few times, and in the past week or so at that, but he was loving every minute he spent with you - your fiery attitude and sarcasm seemed to compliment his personality pretty well. And god when you laughed, he felt like there was nothing bad in the world and he wanted to do everything in his power to make you laugh, hopefully brightening your day and definitely making his day better.

There was one thing that he was worried about though, which was you seemed to be injured as often as he was, and you definitely weren’t going to be open about in the same way he hated talking about his dad. What if your family life wasn’t great either? If that was the case, it’d be hard for either of you to heal in the way you wanted with reminders of other people hurting someone you loved.

Loved. He couldn’t believe he was already thinking about that when he barely knew you and was terrified of love and the thought that people wouldn’t love him back. But he’d be an idiot if he let this opportunity pass him by self sabotaging the relationship.

So, with a slight spring in his step at the thought of your date tomorrow, he walked to the chateau, keeping the image of you laughing at the front of his mind.

tag list: @outerbongs @jjaybank @bailspogue @outerbankslut @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @alexa-playafricabytoto @teamnick @k-k0129 @do-not-talk-to-me-i-am-awkward @thoughtsofthestars @http-cherries @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @thesurfingsnail @lonely-kermit @oopsiedoopsie23 @overly-b @lus-shh @xlittlemissydjx @asaks6082 @copper-boom @danicarosaline @deathcompass @jellyfishbeansontoast @butterfliesinthenightsky @iamaunicorn4704 @my-soul-is-the-moon @diverrdown @thorsangel @saintkore @prejudic3 @ponyboys-sunsets @starrystarkey93 @teenwaywardasgardian @celestialmaybank @kaylinfayezink @pixelated-pogues @otrbnks (i think this is everyone pls tell me if i missed you cos i’m dumb)

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #jj soulmate au #soulmate au #rudy pankow #obx #obx fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #outrebanx #outrebanx - don't feel #john b routledge #pope heyward #kiara carrera

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scabopolis · 3 years

Text

the gift of gab, the gift of you

Here it is @thisonesatellite! your 2020 CS Secret Santa gift. It was a complete and total delight to get to be your gift giver this year. That is not hyperbole - you are a gosh dang delight! Each of your message responses left me in stitches and while I will NEVER try and convince you a movie you think is bunk is good, I am delighted at the opportunity to recommend rom coms that don’t make you want to gouge your eyes out.

This fic is heavily inspired by your love of coffee shops AUs (except...you know, a pub), your travel stories (which I shamelessly incorporated into the fic) and I believe rates about a 4 on the reindeer scale of Christmas cheer. You’re a total eagle eye, so I just need to say I am well aware that Colin O’Donoghue’s accent in no way resembles an accent from Cork, but I just need that to be ignored, please and thank you.

Also, I’ve decided we’re fandom friends now. Okay? Okay! Finally, thank you to @cssecretsanta2020 for organizing this exchange and being the actual best and most patient fandom soul.

*** Title: the gift of gab, the gift of you

Summary: Emma needs an Irish man. Wait! No! It’s not what it sounds like. And then the universe just has to go and provide her with the world’s chattiest, flirtiest, blue-eyesiest Irish man in existence.

Available on AO3. ***

Emma is in no position to complain. From where she sits both literally – (perched upon a comfy barstool in the world’s coziest pub) – as well as existentially – (traveling abroad for the first time in her life) — she is fortunate and blessed.

It’s just –

It’s just it would be easier to enjoy it all if she didn’t have to deal with a rather annoying request from her rather annoyingly persistent mother.

Her headphones are in but Emma still takes great care to speak in hushed tones over video chat. There’s nothing she wants less than to be the loud American who shares her private conversation with an entire establishment. The pub she found is at the end of a quiet lane off of Cork’s high street. The customers within the pub appear to be locals well known by the staff who tend the pub. In truth, she wouldn’t even be having this conversation if it wasn’t for —

“Who have you talked to today?” her mother asks.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I thanked the barista who made my coffee. And I ordered a pint in this pub.”

“That’s not talking.”

“It is by definition talking.”

“That’s not what I meant. How else are you going to get to know the city?” Her mom interrupts before Emma can properly formulate a snarky reply. “And don’t you dare say ‘guidebooks.’ Your father and I raised you better than that.”

“Mom, please don’t make me do this.”

“You said I could have anything I wanted as a souvenir.”

“What about a mug? I bought Grandma Ruth one with a big fat sheep on it.”

“Sounds lovely, sweetie, but no.”

“Mom.” Emma realizes that as a twenty-six year old woman it is probably unbecoming to whine, but her mother is being absolutely ridiculous. Where is her dad when she needs him to rescue her? All he requested was a bottle of whiskey. What a sensible person!

“No. It’s fine. If you don’t want to get your mother the one thing she asked for on this trip that’s okay. I won’t say one word about paying for this celebration trip, or paying for graduate school, or —”

“Shit, mom. Did you take a Guilt Trip 101 class or just Google how to?”

“Oh, this is natural talent. My present, please.”

“Fine.” There’s a group of bearded men, the ones she pegged as locals, tucked into one corner of the pub. They’re probably her best bet, but she just arrived last night, and the combination of jet lag and travel nerves make her feel not yet up for that. Which leaves the staff working the bar.

One of the two men she’s seen pouring pints and serving up food has gone missing. Besides, Emma wouldn’t trust herself in her sleep-deprived state to not say something utterly absurd to the blue-eyed, dark-haired, scruffy bartender. Probably a good thing he’s gone. Much safer is the other man working the bar – the one who refused to serve her Guinness but was very kind about it. While arguably attractive, he is a decidedly less intimidating sort of handsome. Unfortunately, he is in the midst of a heated discussion with one of the patrons, the two of them gesticulating to something happening with a football match on the screen. Which leaves the blonde haired woman currently polishing glasses.

Emma lightly clears her throat. “Excuse me, ma’am?” When the woman turns to look at her, Emma smiles, and signals her over. She sets aside the pint glasses and tucks the polishing rag into her apron. Her mother, on the other end of the video call, is not satisfied.

“Did you say ma’am?”

“Mom,” Emma whispers.

“I said an Irish man, Emma Blanchard Nolan. Man.”

“No. You said person.”

“The man was implied.”

“Then you should have been more specific.”

“Ready for another?” the woman at the bar asks.

Emma looks down at her half-full pint. “Not quite.” She frowns. “And, uh, you’re not Irish, are you?”

“No. Canadian.”

“Ah. Okay.” Emma lowers her voice again and looks at her phone screen. Her mother remains unimpressed. “That’s foreign. Technically she’s a foreigner.”

The sternness of Mary-Margaret’s expression is evident even over the video call. “Emmaline —”

“Not my name, mother.”

“Emmaline Blanchard Nolan, you promised me.”

“I’ll find an Irish person tomorrow.” It’s about this time Emma realizes she’s rudely ignoring the very kind and apparently Canadian bartender. The one she asked to speak with. What’s more, the very kind and apparently Canadian bartender has been joined by the curly haired bartender. Both of whom peer at her with matching expressions of amused befuddlement. Emma removes her headphones and addresses the man. “You’re Irish, right?”

“Well, miss,” and the gentle brogue of his accent, even with those two short words, is quite evident, “you are in Ireland.”

“Excellent! Can you talk to my mom?” She detaches the headphones from her phone and turns the camera around to face the man and woman. “My mom wants to have a conversation with an Irish person.”

“Irish man,” her mother corrects.

“An Irish man. Out in the wild.” The bartenders stare at her, nonplussed. “It’s her souvenir.”

The woman presses her lips together – an obvious attempt to stifle a laugh.

“Well, uh, aye.” The man tugs at his ear. “I guess I could —” He’s interrupted from his stuttering by the return of the blue-eyed, stubbly bartender, hauling a new keg into the back of the bar.

“Actually,” the woman cuts in. “My husband,” she hip checks the curly-haired man, “needs to replace the keg.”

“I do?” he asks.

“He does?” This from tall, dark, and holy hell! also possesses an Irish accent.

“But Killian is in the middle—”

“Shh,” the blonde woman interrupts her husband.

“Yeah. Killian is—”

She goes on to shush the man Emma now knows to be Killian.

“Oh no,” Mary Margaret whispers over the video call, “there’s two of them.”

“What is happening?” Emma’s not sure which of the two men asked, this whole interaction spinning rather absurdly out of control.

“I don’t know,” Emma says.

The woman ignores all of them. “I’m Elsa, this is Liam, and that,” she points to Killian, frozen with a hand on the keg like he’s uncertain what to do, “is my very single, very Irish brother-in-law.” And all at once it becomes clear what Elsa’s intentions are. “Killian, can you come over here and help our lovely patron and her lovely mother?”

“Oh, Emma, Killian even sounds like an Irish name.”

“Mom!” Originally she found her mother’s request to be silly but harmless. The more people who become involved, however, the quicker it approaches mortifying. Emma watches as Elsa whispers something to her brother-in-law, likely explaining the unconventional request.

“I’m very friendly,” Mary-Margaret reassures anyone who might be listening.

“You are a flirt, is what you are,” Emma scolds. “And what would dad say if he found out about this?”

“He asked for whiskey. I asked for this.”

“Come on, lass. Don’t deprive me of a dashing rescue.” Killian leans across the bar, his hand reaching out for her phone. All that stubble and the blue-eyes and the accent are worse when directed directly at her. “Besides, your mum sounds like a woman after my own heart.”

“If you’re sure—?”

“Absolutely.”

To her abject horror, the moment she hands Killian the phone, he walks away with it in hand.

“As requested, milady,” he says to the screen, “one genuine Irish man.”

Her mother’s delighted giggle is embarrassing for all Americans everywhere but it seems to delight Killian. She can just makeout her mother’s question about where he grew up when he rounds the corner, out of her hearing.

“Where is he going?” Emma asks, craning her neck. “Where is he taking my phone?”

“If I know Killian, your mum is probably about to get the most thorough oral history of Irish pubs she could have asked for,” Liam says, tossing a towel over his shoulder.

“Oh. Okay.” She drums her fingertips on her glass. “I’m sorry about all the trouble.”

“Nonsense,” he waves her off. “This is the most exciting thing to happen in our pub since Seamus and Willy hosted their wedding reception here.” He jerks his chin towards the group of bearded men she noticed earlier, though which one is Seamus and which is Willy she can’t be certain.

After another fifteen minutes, Emma has finished her pint and Killian still has possession of her phone. He crossed through the room once, merrily chatting with her mother as he regaled her with the story of how he got the scar on his cheek.

Elsa is filling a series of pint glasses for a group of women standing at the bar, and Emma feels the need to apologize again. “This isn’t what I expected,” she explains.

“What’s that?” Elsa asks.

“I was kind of thinking, best case scenario, there’d be an exchange of hellos and that would be that.”

Elsa nods, hands the pints off to the women, and then fills one more. “Are you familiar with the legend of the Blarney stone?”

Emma nods. She has absolutely no intention of kissing the dang thing (her research indicates local teens do all manner of ungodly things to the stone, knowing that tourists intend to kiss it), but it’s on her list to go see.

“Well, Jones family legend —”

“I take it your husband and his brother are Jones’?”

“And me by marriage. Jones family legend has it that Killian must have been birthed upon the stone because never has there been a man more endowed with the gift of gab.” Elsa finishes pouring the pint and sets it in front of her.

“Oh, I didn’t order this.” Right at that moment, Liam returns to the bar and sets a turkey sandwich in front of her. “Or this,” Emma says.

“Knowing my brother, you might be here a while,” Liam explains.

“Gift of gab?”

He nods, pleased that the Jones family lore has reached her. “Gift of gab.”

Liam proves to be correct, which means Emma has ample time to get to know both Elsa and Liam. The two of them are freakishly adept at juggling bartending, interacting with their customers, and keeping up a steady flow of conversation with her. The highlight is hearing the full story of Seamus and Willy (she is able to identify them by their matching navy sweaters – sweaters which Willy apparently handknits for the both of them), two men who worked on the same fishing boat for decades before realizing they were in love.

“Once they sorted that bit out, they got married three weeks later,” Elsa says.

“So which one of them is the designated driver?” Emma asks.

“That whole lot lives down the street.” Liam raises his voice so the group can hear them. “And they do nothing but hassle me every day of my life!” The group all raise their pint glasses and cheer, indicating this kind of teasing is something central to the pub’s dynamic.

Killian returns from wherever it was he was busy flirting with her mother and sets her phone on the bartop. She looks down at the display only to find it blank.

“Uh, your mum had to run to the market, but she indicated she’ll call you later.”

“She didn’t even say goodbye? Unbelievable.” As Emma gears herself up for peak mom-annoyance, she gets a text message. “Speak of the devil.”

4:38 PM - Mom to Emma hubba hubba

“Ah, geez, mom,” she grumbles.

“What’d she say about me?” Killian asks.

“What makes you think that text was about you?”

“Because you have roses in your cheeks.” Emma frowns. She what? “You’re blushing,” Killian says.

“No I’m not.”

“It’s getting deeper, I’m afraid.” He takes away her empty pint glass. “Another?”

“Yes, please.”

He sets another pint of Murphy’s in front of her (Liam was the one to inform her that one drinks Murphy’s when one is in Cork). “Your mother is lovely.”

“Yeah, she’s something alright.” She sips the beer and licks the foam off her lip. “What were the two of you talking about for so long?”

“Oh, just having a chat. She wanted to know about the pub and how Elsa and Liam met.”

“The gift of gab.”

“Ah,” he says, “Elsa told you of that, then?”

“Like my mom didn’t tell you anything about me?”

“It was all good, Emma.”

She snorts. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Why a conversation with an Irish man?” Emma frowns at Killian, not quite certain of what he’s asking. “For a souvenir. That’s truly all your mum wanted?”

“Oh, that. In between flirting, did she tell you anything about her and my dad?” Killian shakes his head. “It’s kind of a long story.”

As if waiting for his cue, Liam comes up behind Killian and slings an arm around his brother’s shoulder. “My dear little brother has time.”

“Younger brother,” Killian corrects.

“Shorter brother.” Liam bumps Killian towards the other side of the bar. “Why don’t you keep Emma company?”

“I have another three hours on my shift.”

“I think Elsa and I can handle it until Will arrives.”

“Liam.”

“Don’t make me fire you.”

“You can’t fire me. We’re co-owners.”

“Fine. Don’t make me quit.”

Killian rolls his eyes but slides out from under Liam’s arm. He crosses to the other side of the bar and sits beside Emma. “I’ll take a pint, then.” He raps his knuckles on the bartop. “And make it quick.”

Emma hides her smile in her pint glass. Both Liam and Elsa have been so lovely. There’s no reason to switch allegiances at this point. Regardless of how much she might be tempted by the stubbly-faced, blue-eyed flirty Irish man sitting beside her.

“Between the two of them and my mother,” Emma says.

“Yeah, not the most subtle lot.” Liam shoots Killian a glare as he sets the pint down to which Killian responds with the cheekiest grin Emma has ever seen. The interaction has older and baby brother written all over it. “So, your mom and Irishmen. Go.”

“Oh, that.” Unlike her mother, and even her father, Emma holds the details of her life close to her chest. She’s made the mistake in the past of sharing too much too fast. When people leave her, either by choice or circumstance, it physically pains her to know there are people out in the world with knowledge of her worries, fears and dreams. But maybe it’s the sandwich sitting warm in her stomach, or the jet lag, or simply the buzz of international travel, because she feels inclined to share at least a few details of her life with Killian.

“My mom and dad both took a gap year after high school and met while backpacking across Europe. They met at the Roman Colosseum, decided to match up their itineraries, and by the time they arrived in Budapest five months later they were in love and my mom was pregnant.”

“And they’ve been together ever since?”

“Almost 27 years.”

“That’s quite the story.”

She nods. “They cut their year of travel short, and went to live with my Grandma Ruth, my dad’s mom. They always talked about returning to Europe, finishing their trip at some point, but by the time I was old enough to leave behind with my grandma, dad was in vet school, mom was teaching, and they were running a wildlife rescue from the family farm. They kept making new plans to travel but they just kept getting pushed back and back and back. Until, one day, they decided to put all that money towards sending me on my first trip instead. So, as much as I fight every silly request she has of me, I would do anything if it made her smile.”

“Your mum and dad never made it to Ireland?”

“Nope.”

“Thus the strange request.”

“Well, it gave me a reason to chat with the lovely lass at the bar, so for that I’ll be forever grateful.”

Her Grandma Ruth, Aunt Ruby, and frankly everyone who knows her parents well, routinely comment on the resemblance between Emma and her dad. Apparently in temperament and affectation they are almost identical. But maybe she’s more like her mom than anyone knows because the conversation between her and Killian flows fast and easy. Easy enough that she barely notices when she and Killian finish their pints and Elsa slides new glasses in front of them. Emma’s head is feeling a little buzzy, and that turkey sandwich was more than a couple hours ago. Maybe she can hint at Killian that she wants to go to the Christmas market. Hint even more specifically that she wouldn’t hate if he went with her.

No, she can’t do that. To even think such a thing would be ridiculous.

She can’t possibly ask a practical stranger to walk up and down the stalls of the festive market with her. She can’t expect him to want to sample all the baked goods and food they can handle. Or to hold her hand while they drink spiked apple cider. That kind of thinking is romantic, and hopeful, and not at all her brand.

“This is really your first trip out of the states?” Killian asks.

“I mean, Canada, but that’s so close to home it doesn’t count.” Emma catches herself, eyes darting to Elsa. “Don’t tell your sister.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Killian angles his body on the stool to face her more directly. Without Emma realizing it, they’ve drifted close enough together over the past hour or so that the move makes it so their knees knock together. Emma could move away, put some distance between them, but everything is foggy and hazy in that delicious way, and she can’t bring herself to move. “What does that make me, then? The ruggedly handsome foreigner you intend to seduce as a notch on your bedpost?”

“Who said anything about seduction?”

“You’re giving me bedroom eyes.”

“I do not make eyes of any kind. Especially bedroom eyes.”

Elsa jumps in, setting glasses of water down for each of them. “Yeah, but Killian does. And he needs to put them away.”

Emma tries to react quickly enough to Elsa’s teasing to evade Killian’s detection, to turn away and hide her smile in her shoulder so he can’t see, but the gentle tug on the end of her braid indicates he caught her.

“Think that’s funny, do you?”

“You and my mom ganged up against me. I deserve to join with your family against you.”

“Your mum is great.” He shrugs. “Well, based on the little I know.”

“I know she can be a little intense. I hope she didn’t—”

“She was as lovely as her daughter.” Before his words can fully sink in, perhaps bringing that blush back to her cheeks, he’s moved on. “You’ll have to bring her with you when you return.”

She rests her chin on palm, blinking up at him. Okay, maybe she sometimes makes eyes. “What makes you think I have any plans to come back?”

“Ireland gets in your blood. You’ll be back.”

This time they’re interrupted by Liam. He swipes away the pint glasses in front of them, remaining beer and all. “That’s about all I can stomach of that.”

“What do you mean?” Killian asks.

“You’ve been flirting with the kind tourist long enough. Time to go.”

Oh. Emma looks down at her boots. A surge of deep embarrassment heating her cheeks and causing her stomach to churn. “Sorry,” she says quietly, her eyes turned down. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No!” The twin cries from both Liam and Killian startle her. She’s not sure which one appears more stricken by her announcement she intended to leave.

“Apologies, Emma, I wasn’t clear,” Liam says. He extends his hand to Killian. “Apron.” It takes Killian a moment to react but when Liam stays in his place, his hand extended, Killian removes his apron and hands it to him. “See you tomorrow, little brother.”

“Younger.”

“Dumber.”

“Stubborner.”

“Not a word.” Liam stalks back over to Elsa who is shaking her head at the whole display. “They’re both idiots,” Liam says, and Emma is just going to pretend she didn’t hear that, thank you very much.

“Have you been to the Christmas market yet, Emma?” Killian’s voice brings her back to the pub, and this particular bar stool, with this particular man. This particular man who has somehow intuited the secret desire of her heart to go to the town’s Christmas market with him.

“No. No. Not yet.”

Killian jumps down from his seat and extends a hand to Emma to help her down. “Come on, love. Let’s sail away.”

There’s 100 ways Emma could respond to that. She could tell Killian she isn’t his love. She could jump down from the stool on her own. She could insist she’s fine going to the market by herself. But she tries to channel a little magic, that particular magic which for her mom and dad turned one day in Rome into a lifetime, and chooses differently.

(Not that she’s saying she expects—)

She takes Killian’s offered hand and his answering grin is all the confirmation she needs she made the right decision.

And so they go to the Christmas market, and at Killian’s insistence she tries mulled wine but quickly trades it in for a cup of boozy cider. They ride the ferris wheel, the cold stinging her cheeks from the top, the lights of Cork spread out before her, and that thrum of love for this place beats loudly in her veins. Suddenly every travel story her parents have ever told her makes sense and maybe Killian is right – maybe Ireland is in her blood.

They walk together side-by-side and at a point Emma can’t remember – somewhere between sampling whiskey, buying several bottles for her dad, and licking salt and malt vinegar from hot chips off her fingers – they transition to walking hand-in-hand. The heat of Killian’s skin, even through two layers of gloves, is what she blames for the fact that she actually starts humming along to Christmas carols. Where’s that deep cynicism she has been committed to for her life when she needs it?

“Told you,” Killian says after the two of them step away from a stall with handmade ornaments. She must have been channeling her mom because she couldn’t stop herself from striking up a conversation with the vendor. Somehow by the end of the interaction she’d agreed to join him and his wife for their annual holiday pub crawl the following night.

“Told me what?”

“That you would fall for Ireland.”

“You get the honor and privilege of keeping me company on my first full night on my first real trip out of the country and all you can say is ‘I told you so’?”

“I believe what I am trying to say, love, is you appear very much at home here.”

The sentiment makes everything in Emma buzz, but she does what she does best and works to diffuse it. “Well, uh, I don’t know. Does it ever snow here?”

“Eh, we get about 50 mm every year?” At her look of confusion Killian smiles. “Not much.”

“Have you ever had a white Christmas?”

“Can’t say I have. They’re pretty rare in Ireland.”

“In that case, I think this means you should come to Maine. We do a great white Christmas.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Great. Next year sound good?”

Killian laughs and squeezes her hand. “Sounds great.”

She hears the faint echo of advice her dad once gave her. It was right when she was fresh off her heartbreak with Neal and wasn’t sure she had it in her to apply for grad school. He said something to her about moments. About the need to notice good moments even in the midst of bad ones.

Standing here hand-in-hand with a man she met only five hours ago, the glow of Christmas lights dancing in technicolor hues against his cheeks and hair, Emma is absolutely certain this is a good moment.

“Emma?”

She answers Killian’s question by rising up on her toes and kissing him. It’s quick and fleeting, barely a brush of her lips against his, but the look on his face as she pulls away, all bright eyed-wonder, deserves to be classified as a good moment all on its own.

It takes self-control Emma wasn’t aware she possessed to not drop their shopping bags to the ground, grip him by the lapels of his jacket, and kiss the crap out of him. Instead she loops her arm in his.

“It’s getting late,” she says. “Want to walk me back to my hotel?”

He swallows, that poleaxed expression still on his face. “Aye.”

The next morning, Emma is woken up by the sound of her video call alert and boy it was a mistake to not extend her do not disturb until noon. She reaches out and blindly bats at the bedside table until she makes contact with her phone. As soon as she swipes up on her mom’s call, she squeezes her eyes shut again.

“Hello?”

“Oh, sweetie. Are you still jet lagged?”

“And a little hungover.”

“Sounds like you had a very eventful night.”

Killian grumbles from somewhere behind her. “What time is it?” he asks.

It’s right about this moment Emma realizes her error. Her mom goes quiet and Emma considers taking the opportunity to end the call. And then maybe ignore every call thereafter for the next five days.

“Emma Nolan. Is there a man in bed with you?”

“No,” Emma answers, though it’s perfunctory and not at all convincing.

Killian presses closer to her, and shifts so his chin rests on her shoulder. “Hello again, Mrs. Nolan. And this must be Mr. Nolan.”

That gets Emma’s attention and she opens her eyes enough to see her mom and dad sitting beside one another on the couch. While her mom is positively gleeful, her dad looks as though he wishes he could melt into the couch cushions and disappear.

“There are certain things I don’t care to see,” her dad says. “Certain things I don’t care to know.”

Emma rotates in bed and onto her back, holding the phone above her head so both she and Killian are still in view of the camera. “Oh hush, Dad, you and mom did it the first night you met.”

“You told her that?”

In response, her mom shrugs. “She asked.”

“And not that it matters, but Killian and I didn’t have sex.”

Though it didn’t stop them from trading long, slow kisses that left her dizzy and wanting more, more, and more. Killian must have felt the same because it took little to no convincing to get him to stay the night. Perhaps most remarkably, after extending the invitation, Emma had no desire to retract it or pretend it didn’t mean anything.

“Your daughter was far too drunk to have sex.” Emma turns her head so fast in Killian’s direction she hears something crack.

“That, for instance, is one of the things I don't want to know about,” her dad says.

Killian cheerfully waves at the camera, ignoring both her father’s indignation and her glare. “I’m Killian, by the way. Happy to meet your acquaintance, Mr. Nolan.”

Emma elbows Killian. The man is a total menace. “I’ll call you guys back when I’ve had coffee,”

“I want details,” her mom says.

“And I want no details.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Emma hangs up the phone and tosses it in the direction of the foot of the bed. She flips over onto her side and Killian mirrors her, reaching out to trace the freckles on the bridge of her nose. “So that was my dad.”

“He seems a charming fellow.”

“Don’t let the responsible tough guy act fool you,” she says, and snuggles closer to Killian. He responds just as she hoped, by wrapping his arms tight around her. “He once spent all his money on a cross country train ride and stole oyster crackers from the dining car for food. And during a California road trip, my mom almost froze to death sleeping in her wet bathing suit on the side of the road.”

Killian chuckles, the vibrations of his laugh making her feel even warmer. “You’re saying they can deal with a half naked man in their daughter’s hotel room?”

“Yeah, they can deal.” After a moment’s hesitation, Emma slips her hands up and under Killian’s shirt. It’s the one he wore to work, and she can still smell the faint aromas of beer and fried food that linger. She presses her palms against his back and bunches the shirt up, up, and then over his head.

“Emma?”

A girl could get used to the way his voice moves over the syllables of her name. “They might have a problem with a fully naked one, though.” She kisses his bare shoulder.

Killian’s hands move under her shirt to span her waist. Goosebumps breakout across her skin. By the slight twist of his lips, Killian notices. “So you’re saying—?”

“I’m saying you should quit gabbing and kiss me before they call again.”

“As you wish.”

And a week later, when she is back in Maine celebrating Christmas with her family and Killian is in Ireland with his, Emma convinces herself she imagined it. She must have. She must have imagined how safe she felt in the presence of another person. Imagined the comfort she felt as he joined her for a quick road trip to Dublin. Imagined that it could feel like your heart was split in two, half residing in the chest of a person you just met.

But the week of New Year’s Eve, when he arrives in Maine to celebrate with her, she’s startled to find it was all real.

The morning after Killian arrives, she sits with her mom in her parents’ breakfast nook, the two of them sipping coffee as Killian and her dad make waffles.

“Not such a dumb souvenir after all, huh?” her mom whispers.

Emma shakes her head, too happy to even react to her mom’s shameless gloating. “No. Not so dumb.”

#csss2020 #cssecretsanta2020 #cs ff #ouat ff #killian jones #emma swan #cs secret santa 2020 #p: emma x killian #thisonesatellite

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merryfortune · 3 years

Text

You give me flowers of love

Written for 100ships Challenge on Dreamwidth

Prompt #39 - Pink

Ship: Nodoka/Hinata

Fandom: Healin’ Good PreCure

Word Count: 3,757

Rating: M

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

AN: title comes from Bloodflowers by The Cure and is recommended listening for this fic.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Hanahaki, Horror, Gore, Emetophobia/Emetophilia, Angst and Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Past/Referenced Eriko/Hinata, Minor Blood

Hinata was not the type of girl who could handle horror stories, urban legends, or anything spookier than a rom-com set against the background of a popular coffee shop. However, there was something about this creepypasta that caught her attention. Maybe she read it to prove that she wasn’t a scaredy-cat or maybe she read it because something about it was almost too real.

It came across her Curestagram feed, screenshots reposted from another site with long form text functions rather than the optimized for photos aesthetic of Curestagram. It wasn’t late at night, quite the opposite, Hinata had just been scrolling as she was half nibbling on a banana muffin for morning tea. So she was kind of bored and not already unsettled by a vague anxiety sort of mindset so she stopped her scroll to read this totally true story from a friend of a friend that had happened upon her timeline.

The story involved a sickness. A lovesickness, hooking Hinata immediately since she was a hopeless romantic and leaving her vulnerable to what was hiding down below a few paragraphs after and Hinata realised she was reading a surreal medical horror story.

Supposedly, some girl from a high school in the next town over had been hospitalized due to damage to her stomach and esophagus but ultimately culminated in her passing away from brain damage due to suffocation. The suffocation that was the outcome of the damage she had taken to her stomach and esophagus had, supposedly, been caused by the growing of flowers inside of her. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They were baffled by the impossibility of it. Yet where they failed to posit theories at all, their patient had her own she desperately desired to reveal.

The nameless girl, as weak as she was in her final moments of speech and cognition, was certain with the most crystal clear clarity that she could muster said that reason for the flowers growing inside of her was due to a crush that she had been fostering for quite some time. A crush that was so powerful and deep that it had manifested as literal and impossible distress in the form of tiger lily flowers. Though her claims were dismissed as nonsense, despite the very given evidence that she had been vomiting exotic flowers, except by the narrator who was sharing her story online on her behalf.

Hinata got to the bottom line of the final screenshot and she dropped her phone on the table. She shivered and flinched as her phone clattered. Nyatoran looked up, alarmed, from the milk that he had been sipping.

“Heh? Are you okay Hinata?” he asked.

“Y-Yeah, I just lost my grip.” Hinata replied. It wasn’t a lie.

“Really? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Nyatoran pointed out.

Hinata made an expression that was both guilty and embarrassed, “Er, sort of… I read a ghost story online and I haven’t the stomach for them.”

“Oh, well, no worries then. I’ll keep ya safe from all the ghoulies then.” Nyatoran boasted.

Hinata laughed, “Thanks, Nyatoran.” she replied.

And that was more or less enough to keep her mind off what she had read for the rest of the day as she did her Sunday homework and such. At least until well after lights out.

Hinata cursed herself. She knew endless walls of text in screenshots never bore good news but it was under her skin now. It wasn’t even that scary, she tried to convince herself. It just so happened to play off something she had been thinking about in ways that cut deep and yes, even scary.

Hinata had a crush of her own. One she didn’t think she ought to act on. Or didn’t know how to act on.

Hinata had a crush on Nodoka. She was sweet and gentle yet so motivated. Hinata felt like she learned something new about either herself or Nodoka after every time they hung out. Things never felt old between them despite how natural their companionship was between them.

Catching feelings for Nodoka was inevitable, Hinata felt regarding their dynamic as close friends and their friendship was relatively intense due to their bond as comrades being Pretty Cures but that made Hinata sick to her stomach with fear. This wasn’t her first crush that she had on another girl.

In the not so recent past, Hinata had been wrong reading other girls’ opinions and feelings regarding her before. She and Eriko had been so close, childhood friends with a pact that seemed fit to stand the test of time when they had made it, and Hinata didn’t think it was a coincidence that already scarce contact between them after Eriko moved was when Hinata had confessed her feelings to Eriko.

The rejection had been crushing and Hinata had never told a soul about it. The wound was older now but it still hurt so, as lovely as Nodoka was, Hinata didn’t want to gamble their friendship due to that prior rejection. Yet her feelings crackled like electricity near a lightning rod whenever she was around Nodoka anyway. She could only hope that Nodoka was oblivious since she was so inexperienced socially due to her childhood spent mostly in the hospital.

(And that Chiyu never brought up the blatantly obvious which she would hopefully never do since she knew there was a place and a time and it wasn’t her place).

Thus, for all these different and entangling reasons, that horror story Hinata had read this morning really resonated. The thought of her unrequited feelings becoming literal, even in the form of pretty and seemingly harmless flowers, and suffocating. It was a very real fear to Hinata despite that fantastical execution that it was captured inside.

All because she was a magical girl infused with the power of light and thunder. She fought villains who caused infections in nature and created monsters. To her, it didn’t seem too far outside of her sphere of tried and true reality that such a floral disease of the body could exist. Heck, maybe it did exist and was tied to the war that she and her friends were fighting in secret on behalf of the Healing Animals. It was entirely possible this flower vomit disease was another agent or power of the Byougens.

Hinata groaned and the more she scolded herself for thinking about these horrible possibilities, the more she thought about them. She tossed and turned all night, in the dark and under the covers of her doona. She knew Nyatoran would live up to his boasting over morning tea if she asked but he was totally conked out in his little room. Hinata couldn’t bring herself to wake him, to unnecessarily burden him, so she just hid from her fears as best as she could in her blankets.

The following morning, Hinata was a wreck. She had bags under her eyes and was generally a drag. She hasn’t slept a wink last night but just like she was hiding from the horror story in her head, she decided to hide from the aftermath too. She touched up her eyes with concealer and finished off her make-up with a nice little kiss of lip balm, too. She chose a nice tropical flavour: pineapple with vanilla undertones and wore nude in practice. With that, she was ready for what was no doubt going to be a long, long day of school.

A prediction that she was very right in having. Just making it to lunch felt like an eternity and a half on low energy. Worst still, despite the precautions that Hinata had taken, both Chiyu and Nodoka had noticed that she wasn’t exactly her bouncy self today. Even with her favourite lunch box in her lap with fried chicken and a fruit drink, too.

“Are you okay, Hinata?” Nodoka asked and she batted her long eyelashes in concern.

Hinata knew she couldn’t lie or deflect around Nodoka, at least for the most part, and deflated, “No…” she moaned. “I slept awfully last night.”

“I expect that it wasn’t due to over studying?” Chiyu asked, sniping.

“No, I just. Couldn’t sleep.” Hinata shrugged.

“Well, be sure to put yourself early to bed tonight then. There’s nothing worse than being tired.” Nodoka said.

“Will do.” Hinata sighed.

“Also?” Nodoka prompted her.

“Yeah?” Hinata glanced at Nodoka was she tried a spoonful of rice from her side dishes.

“Your lip balm has a very strong smell today, I can smell it from here.” Nodoka laughed.

“Oh, joy…” Hinata hung her head in misery. She didn’t think it was so pungent in the tube.

“I didn’t mean that in a mean way.” Nodoka panicked whilst Chiyu had a discrete giggle at Hinata’s misfortune. “I really like it. I think it smells nice. Like cherries. I love the smell of cherries best.”

“Huh?” Hinata mumbled and she stared straight at Nodoka in confusion.

Nodoka stared back. Also in confusion. “Is something the matter?”

“Er, no,” Hinata awkwardly began and she forced herself to laugh and she flapped a hand about too to disguise her weirdness, “I must have been so tired this morning that I though I used one lip balm and instead used another.”

“That is a little odd…” Chiyu murmured.

But Nodoka seemed to buy it, she gasped, “Fwow, you must have been really tired this morning to make such a mistake. Promise me to get a good night’s rest tonight then.” Nodoka fussed for her.

“I promise, I promise.” Hinata replied.

Just as Hinata spoke, the end of lunch bell rang. She moaned with the utmost misery as she hadn’t finished her lunch even slightly and roused much sympathy from both Nodoka and Chiyu. So, Hinata crammed what she could into her mouth and swallowed before returning with her friends indoors to their classroom.

She plopped down in her chair and desk, her stomach growling almost immediately. Were it not for the teacher at the front of the classroom, Hinata would have flopped down and keeled over right there and then. She would have killed for a nap. Not even a luxurious nanna nap at this point, she would take a horrid power nap. Anything would have been better than nothing. Instead, the best she could muster was some daydreaming whilst scribbling in her work book so she could at least pretend to be paying attention.

Her mind strayed to Nodoka. She couldn’t help it. A silly little pining schoolgirl was exactly what she was after all. She doodled Nodoka’s name in her margins, surrounded with love-hearts, paw prints, and even flowers. It was a little bit childish but Hinata was a lot childish so she didn’t mind, she was more or less on cloud nine since Nodoka had shown her care for her over lunch, fussing for her like that.

It was such a small act but it was more than enough to launch Hinata’s heart in a million miles an hour race. So much so, she began to taste something at the back of her throat. It was a sweet taste accompanied by a fizzy sensation. Hinata liked it and it seemed to get stronger the more she daydreamed about Nodoka. Even though it was the middle of class, Hinata was letting her mind completely run away from the contents of what the teacher was attempting to educate on them.

Finally, after what felt like a day of self torment because of reading some stupid horror story about puking flowers, Hinata felt free of that gnawing anxiety. But just as she revelled in this, her stomach wretched. She dry gagged with the searing taste of bile at the back of her throat and her hand automatically clamped over her mouth, pen and all. The prior anxiety might have dissipated but a new one had spiked in its place.

Hinata frowned. Was it because she hadn’t eaten all her lunch that she suddenly felt nauseous? Or was it something else? She begged that it wasn’t her period, she was still quite irregular so this felt off or early to her.

Then she gagged again. She swallowed it back down. Hard. Whatever she swallowed was thick and sweet. It wasn’t vomit, Hinata had the startling realisation. She tried hard to keep it down but she failed. She vomited into her hand, or at least something similar. The motions were awful, worse than anything else she had ever had to eject from her body orally before.

Hinata felt sick to the very bottom of her stomach. Her hands shook as she slowly removed the one over her mouth and… and she couldn’t believe her eyes. They widened in shock as she saw the head of a flower in the palm of her hand. It was a cherry blossom, she realised. The pale pink petals were frayed at the edges, burnt by stomach acid and wet with her saliva; the anthers of its centre drooped and dragged, splayed across the petals. Her skin crawled as she marveled at the insane gravity of the situation. She quickly paled.

And the teacher noticed, “Hiramitsu, are you okay?” he asked from in front of the chalkboard, looking up concerned from the book he was reciting from.

“I-I, um, I need to go. To the nurse.” Hinata eked out her words with strained difficulty.

Her stomach flipped and she could feel another one coming up. It slithered up her throat and she hated the slow, dreadful sensation of it, the way it made her mouth taste of bile and cherries in horrible combination. Hinata bolted to her feet, afraid, alarming the whole class. She hid her mouth behind her hand again, holding tight that first flower that she had vomited.

“I need to go.” Hinata mumbled and she fled.

The feeling of her classmates' eyes on her felt like broken glass digging. She knew, deep down, they didn’t mean harm but their gazes only served to amplify the terror she felt as she fled. She was fast at first, escaping from the classroom but her stomach lurched and she vomited another flower and then again but two at once this time.

Hinata stopped in the hallway, she had to rest her shoulder against the wall just to stand as she looked down into the palm of her hand. The flowers were accumulating against her skin, wet and heavy, and accelerating in pace of production. Already she felt another lurch and this one was dire, Hinata didn’t think she would be so lucky to only vomit one or two this next time.

She had to get to the sick bay. She wasn’t sure what she would do there but anything had to be better than nothing, so she hobbled on in immense pain. By nothing less than a miracle, Hinata managed to get to the nurse’s suite without collapsing. Or with leaving too many flowers in her meagre wake.

The school nurse panicked almost immediately when she saw Hinata in this state. Hinata sputtered out a thank you whilst she was put to bed. Hinata curled up under the sheets, her stomach lurching and mangled petals dripped out of her mouth. She had to hide her ailment from the nurse. She just had to. She didn’t know how to explain it or anything else pertaining to it but fortunately, the nurse bought her some time by going to use administration’s phone to let her father know that Hinata was in immediate medical distress.

Hinata held her scrawny belly with one hand and her mouth the other. No matter how hard she tried, these flowers kept dredging up from inside of her and it was worsening. There was distention building inside of her, it was as if she could feel the bushels of cherry blossom flowers forming inside of her and something else too. It was raw and firm and poking up through her like a stick. Hinata moaned in utter agony as she tasted not just sweetness and bile in her mouth, but the cutting, metallic taste of blood too.

She whimpered as she tried to swallow it down. Attempting so, just made the nicks and cuts to her throat worsen and the petals to clog. Her lungs ached sharply as she struggled to breathe. Her eyes squeezed tight and she begged every deity she could think of for a saviour.

The door to the sick bay opened again. Hinata murmured to herself and the curtain was pulled aside, “Hinata?” a sweet voice greeted her.

“Huh?” Hinata slurred.

She rolled over, still holding herself but even a simple and slow motion like that was enough to rouse her illness violently. Her grimace was deep on her face as she tried to look at Nodoka, even feebly.

“A-Are you okay, Hinata?” she asked. “I couldn’t sit by and worry when I saw you ill you were, what’s wrong?”

Hinata opened her mouth. Mostly to reply, but that’s not what happened. She threw up in front of Nodoka and Nodoka couldn’t believe her eyes. Hinata was throwing up bushels upon bushels of flowers. Cherry blossoms. Nodoka blinked. She couldn’t believe the sights - or the smell. The smell was disconcerting with how almost pleasantly fragrant it was, heightening Nodoka’s realisation that this wasn’t Hinata pulling pranks.

“H-How on Earth did this happen…?” Nodoka asked.

She was horrified yet found herself unable to resist the impulse. She picked a blossom out of the pile that Hinata had vomited up. It was soft in her hand, even if it was grotesquely wet.

“I - I don’t-” Hinata tried to speak but she cut herself off when she felt something jut out of her mouth. An entire branch of cherry blossoms began to spike out of her mouth.

Her eyes began to roll back on themselves as Nodoka watched, in abject and frozen horror, as Hinata contended with this stick inside of her. It emerged slowly from the depths of her throat and made her chest convulse. Her fingers spasmed as she choked around it, flowers blooming along the thin and coarse branch.

“H-Help me.” Hinata sputtered out.

Nodoka nodded. She was scared, her heart was pounding, but she was first and foremost a helper of most empathetic ends. She had been on the receiving end of a strange and bizarre illness that had rendered most her childhood for naught. She couldn’t just let Hinata struggle. Suffocate.

So, she got onto the bed with Hinata. She straddled her so she could best approach the foreign object inside of Hinata. She focused her eyes and was as ready as she could ever be for an amateur operation quite like this one. Nodoka reached out and pinched the end of the branch delicately. It was entirely unsafe, Nodoka knew that, but she began to pull. She peered into Hinata’s pink mouth was clogged with twigs and petals, and tried her best to dislodge what she could.

Hinata gagged. Tears in her eyes and she plead, silently and afraid, that Nodoka could handle this. Nodoka’s hands shook but she did, in fact, manage. She tried her hardest and she did succeed even if it felt pyrrhic as Hinata screamed out as the last, and thickest, part of the cherry blossom branch was removed.

Nodoka flinched hearing the scream, dropping the cherry blossom branch between them. Hinata spat out blood and petals but the cherry blossom branch had been removed. She caressed her neck and it was raw with what it had been through. Her touches did little to soothe or quell her pain, she looked up at Nodoka with pathetic, red rimmed eyes.

“What was that?” Nodoka asked, her heart quaking. “How could any of this be possibly real?”

“I - I don’t know.” Hinata mumbled but that was a lie. She choked on her words all the same as she had choked on those cherry blossoms. Her hands squeezed tight. “No. I’m sorry. I do know.”

“Pardon?” Nodoka quietly exclaimed.

“There’s a very rare disease,” Hinata began, hasty, “that causes flowers to grow inside of someone suffering with a crush that they just can’t handle.”

“That’s horrible…” Nodoka murmured.

It was now or never, Hinata realised. Or she was going to end up exactly like the girl from the story that she had read yesterday. She knew it. She just knew it.

“Nodoka, it’s you.” Hinata confessed, half a sob in her voice. “I’m crushing on you.”

Nodoka was stunned by Hinata’s admission.

Hinata panted, her face was going bright red whilst her heart pounded like a hammer at her rib cage. She couldn’t believe it. She had done it. But it felt like a weight off, she had to admit, she didn’t realise her crush had been such a burden until right now. She felt herself lighten with the confession, from the very pit of her stomach, upwards and outwards.

Nodoka averted her gaze and Hinata was reminded once more why a crush was called a crush. That borderline feel good feeling from before popped. Burst. Nodoka played with her hair, fidgeting, and then managed to speak in a very calm and very quiet voice.

“I have a crush on you, too, Hinata.” Nodoka replied. “I admire so much how you sparkle and shine. It’s very refreshing to be around. I like you too. A lot.”

Nodoka reached out to Hinata’s hand and held it. She was so warm and she was still trembling but Nodoka’s caress of it did soothe her. Hinata hazarded a smile, like she couldn’t believe her ears, through her scarlet expression. Nodoka leaned in and kissed Hinata.

Hinata was unable to kiss back, afraid of her own breath but Nodoka didn’t mind. It was pungent with cherry blossoms and wet but she found the kiss sufficiently sweet, kissing Hinata’s soft, balmy lips. They were tinged with pineapple and vanilla beneath that overwhelming sensation of cherry blossoms.

“Thank you, Nodoka…” Hinata murmured and somehow, she didn’t know or understand how but she wasn’t going to complain, she was cured, prettily, of her affliction.

The cherry blossom flowers on the bed or in her gut, disappeared. All with seemingly little aplomb. Even the branch that had to have been removed from her throat, all with a soft, fizzling noise that Hinata could hardly hear over the sound of her pounding heart. She still had the cuts and scrapes, but she was no longer growing flowers inside of her stomach. Hinata was cured and Nodoka was her blessed, angelic cure.

#100ships challenge #femslash #nodohina #healin good precure #healin good #precure #nodoka hanadera #hanadera nodoka #cure grace #cure sparkle #hiramitsu hinata #hinata hiramitsu #writing tag #i really like this fic so i hope you guys enjoy

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angelic-holland · 4 years

Text

All Too Well ☼ 1

Missed Alarms & Maple Lattes

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x fem!reader

Warnings: anxious first meeting & flirtations

Word Count: 2.8k

Y/N accepted a job on the props team for a small rom-com never expecting her life to change completely because of a boy with blue eyes and a bright smile. But as autumn turned to winter, she found herself embracing her vulnerabilities and hoping her love didn’t end when the movie wrapped.

masterlist ☼ taglist

A/N: thanks for the kind words over the prologue! I’m glad you’re enjoying it so far and would love to know what you think of this chapter as well!

☼ ☼ ☼

Six Months Earlier...

“Rex, you’re hardly my boss. I’m saying that in the nicest way possible,” you grunted when hot glue burnt your finger.

“Well, if one of us doesn’t haul ass over to Harrison’s trailer to wake him up, we’re both fired. You know how shit I am at driving.” He gestured to the hot glue gun you had clutched in one hand, the other shaking to relieve the sting of the burn.

“Fine. Only because I don’t want you to crash my car.”

“Too cheap to pay assistants so they treat the interns like ones,” he grumbled, taking the glue gun from you.

“All I want is a real job after this one,” you huffed, digging your key chain out of your pocket.

“Don’t we all,” Rex echoed.

You began to head out of the set, a log cabin snuggled inside a few acres of forest.

“Hey! Hey!”

You turned, raising an eyebrow at the curly haired blonde girl perched on a directors chair.

Kat Newton. She’s drop dead gorgeous. Her curly hair swept up into a high ponytail. The “no makeup” makeup look for the first scene of the movie being filmed made her look like she just woke up in the most elegant way possible. To say you had a crush on her was an understatement.

“Hi, Kat, what’s up?” You came to a halt in front of her chair.

“Harrison’s coffee. He’ll need it if he woke up late.” She held out a cup of lukewarm coffee, and you took it with a smile, nervously looking away when your fingers brushed.

“Thanks. I’ll pass it along to him.” You raised the cup before turning and jogging out the door.

The coffee smelled amazing as it jostled in your hand.

It reminded you of a little breakfast bar you visited with Rex before the all day script reading. Chocolate chip pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup.

Unlocking your car, you slid into the beat up Subaru, passed down from your uncle to you, it’s definitely seen better days.

The cloth seats had so many stains from your adventures on different film sets with Rex.

Coffee when an entire box of Joe broke in your passenger seat. Some type of sauce from a local Vietnamese restaurant. A burn from when Rex almost set your car on fire with a joint and blowtorch.

You smiled at all the memories from the past few years as you started the car, pulling out of the parking area by the cabin.

It was cold, like you were well warned about before taking the position.

Ludlow, Vermont was a small town where the director owned a beautiful log cabin, apparently where he wanted to film most of the romantic comedy.

But it was freezing. You wanted to get the heat fixed before making the drive so when you had to make the twenty minute drive to and from to your trailer every day you wouldn’t turn into an icicle, but chances of that were low. Especially with your pay.

Instead, you opted for mittens and hand warmers at the end of August. Driving out of the parking area you began your venture down the barely there driveway that led to the poorly paved highway cutting through town.

You drove for about five minutes before you spotted him, dark blond hair sweaty and matted to his forehead, running like he was in a marathon down the side of the road.

“Harrison?” You shouted, rolling down the drivers side window. The dark blond haired boy glanced over at you as you slowed your car to meet him on the side of the road.

“Harrison Osterfield?” You shouted once more, almost certain it was him.

He came to a halt, taking heaving breath with both hands on his knees.

“I’m sorry, Uh, if you’re a fan, I can’t really stop to take pictures. You see I-,”

You barked out a laugh, the entire sentiment quite hysterical to you.

You haven’t really worked directly with celebrities before, but you didn’t quite expect that reaction.

He looked at you slightly bewildered as you put your car in park next to him.

“What?”

“I just-,” you paused and slapped your hand over your mouth in a sad attempt to suppress your giggles.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, jogging over to your window. He had to practically bend in half to make eye contact with you, eyes searching for any recognition of who you might be.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Props assistant for Love Me Not. I was sent to pick your sleepy ass up.”

“Really?” He nearly screeched eyes lighting up when you nodded.

“You know, I’ve been late to a lot of things in my life. But never the first scene of my own damn movie,” you huffed, unlocking the doors. “Get in.”

He jogged to the other side of your car, wiping the sweat from his forehead before clambering inside. His legs nearly didn’t fit in the space between the dashboard and his seat, cramped and shoved up to his chest.

He awkwardly rubbed his palms on the fabric of his sweatpants while he stared at him expectantly.

“Buckle your seatbelt?”

“Oh shit! Yeah, yeah,” he swore, quickly buckling his seatbelt before anxiously tapping his knees.

“Oh yeah, uh this was for you.” You tilted your head toward the coffee cup in the cup holder of your center console.

“Was?” He asked hesitantly while you began to make a u-turn in the middle of the road.

“I may have drank some.”

“May?”

You both looked at the red lipstick stain on the cup and then you followed his gaze to your lips.

You ignored the heat you felt and quickly centered your stare back on the road.

“Just my compensation for driving to pick your sleepy ass up.”

“I feel like my sleepy ass should have coffee.”

“Maybe if you were on time you’d have it. Here, there’s probably about half left anyway.” Handing him the coffee, you shivered when his fingers touched yours.

“Cold?” He asked, he watched the goosebumps raise on your arms before retreating his hand.

You gulped, nodding while your hands gripped the steering wheel.

“Here.” He leaned forward, about to turn on the heat.

“Wait!” You screeched, smacking his hand. Too late.

Tammy, your car, shuddered to a stop in the middle of the road when Harrison pushed the button for heat.

“What just happened?” Harrison asked while you took your keys out of the ignition.

“Tammy here does not like when heat or AC is used. So we need to give her a moment.”

He looked at you skeptically, which was totally understandable. He probably has never been in a car that crapped out when you try to use the center console buttons.

“Sorry, I love Tammy.” You patted the dashboard lovingly. “But she’s basically a grandma. Can’t quite multitask anymore.”

“So we’re stuck? Shit.”

“Well,” you tsked, rolling your eyes at the movie star next to you.

“I know, I know. If I woke up to my damn alarm I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Enjoying a lukewarm cup of coffee in a stalled car in the middle of the road with a glorified assistant?” You asked in a teasing tone.

You couldn’t blame his frustration as he scowled at you. But he looked as harmless as a bumblebee.

“You’re adorable,” you said without thinking, quickly focusing back on Tammy when you felt his stare on you.

“I was going to say I wouldn’t be getting to know a pretty girl and her shit car.”

“Hey!” You scolded him, playfully smacking his arm. “Don’t say things like that. Tammy might hear and retaliate.”

“Is Tammy jealous?”

You rolled your eyes at his question before attempting to start the car.

“Call Tammy pretty. It might do the trick.”

Harrison laid a hand on the dash and you caught a glimpse of chipped blue and yellow nails.

“Oh Tammy, I know I was complimentin’ the driver here earlier. But you are also a very pretty girl. Beautiful even. You know that coat of paint on ya is almost the same shade as my eyes.”

As if Tammy was blushing, the moment Harrison finished complimenting her and you turned the keys once more, she roared to life.

“Hey! Nice!” Harrison laughed, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window.

“She just needed a little love is all. Hey, you look like the one who’s cold, trying to run all the way to the cabin. Here.” You stepped on the brake before turning to rummage through the backseat.

Grabbing your red scarf, you tossed it at the boy next to you.

“What’s this for?”

“To warm you up. I don’t want them to accuse me of giving the star frostbite.”

“I’ll make sure after they cut my frozen toes and fingers off you tried everything you could.”

You huffed out a laugh as he wrapped your scarf around his neck, burying his hands and face in the material.

“What?” He whined, his voice raising in pitch. “It’s cold.”

“I know, silly. That’s what the scarf is for. Anyway, I’m pretty sure Ryan is going to be pissed when we get back so prepare for that.”

“Oh, I’m used to scornful directors. Don’t worry too much about me.”

“If you say so.” You shrugged, pulling back into the parking area.

“Thank you, by the way,” Harrison said when you parked the car. He began to take off your scarf when your hand came up to rest on his.

The warmth from his hand sent a shiver down your spine, the contrast between your cold palm was dizzying.

“Keep it. Stay warm while you’re getting lectured about waking up on time or whatever.”

“Okay, yeah, uhm, bye then.”

He took off out of your car before you could respond, running wildly toward the cabin with your red scarf wrapped snugly around his neck and billowing behind him with his strides.

***

“Harrison! Over here!”

You watched with Rex as Kat and an older man who could’ve been about a dozen people on set waved at Harrison from across the food tent.

“What is the blue eyed arrogant asshole doing coming our way?” Rex asked, echoing the joke you made earlier.

“No idea.” You shrugged. “Maybe to make me pay him back for the half a coffee I drank.”

Before you could distract yourself by pushing food around on your plate or making a snide remark to Rex about his peanut butter and tomato sandwich, Harrison sat down across from you.

“Uh, hi?” You phrased it as a question, head turning between Kat, Harrison, and Rex.

“Mind if I sit here or are you two-, oh.” Harrison’s voice dropped off when he saw how close you and Rex were sitting.

Rex snorted, his sandwich landing all over the table as he choked.

“Oh fuck you, Mr. ‘I’d date you if we were high school theatre nerds’. Pretentious motherfucker.”

Harrison looked between the two of you, both laughing to the point of doubling over.

“Okay Miss ‘I only make out with you when I’m drunk’.”

“Hey!” You smacked Rex’s arm again, inching your body away from his. You didn’t have a good response, or at least one that wouldn’t make this airy conversation turn a little too psychological after a full day of filming.

The truth was, casual was never something you could do. Meaningless hook-ups were simply not in your vocabulary.

So of course when you’re craving that physical affection but don’t have the emotional intimacy you need, you turned to your best friend.

“Sit, please. If only to make it so I’m not alone with this jerk.” You playfully shoved Rex’s shoulder before taking another sip of your coffee.

“How was the rest of the shoot this afternoon?” You queried once Harrison settled down.

He shrugged, picking over his food the same as you.

“It was okay. Willow wants me to do some work on my character without ‘taking it home with me’.” He said the last bit in frustrated quotations, angrily stabbing a piece of pasta with his plastic fork.

“You can do that, you know. Method acting usually doesn’t work too well from what I’ve experienced.”

“Y/N you acted twice. Once for fifteen minutes in a shitty one act that I wrote. And-,”

You cut Rex off. “And once as Wendla because the actress who was playing her dropped the second to last week before tech. I was her understudy.”

“Yeah, and I was Melchior,” Rex finished, a smug smile on his face.

“So as you can see. Not method acting is how I got through that show with this one.” You pointed the back end of your fork at Rex who doubled back in fake shock.

“Maybe the two of you can help me, then?” Harrison asked hopefully, his blue eyes twinkling with the desire to learn.

Rex barked out a laugh before you smacked him. “Sorry. I don’t get paid enough for that. Plus I could never do as good a job as Y/N could.”

“Only for the ego boost of being a makeshift acting coach for a famous actor.”

Rex couldn’t make another joke before one of the hair and makeup people interrupted you.

“Harrison? You’re needed in hair and makeup for reset now.”

He grumbled for a moment, looking at his hardly eaten plate of food. “Can I bring this?”

“Let’s eat and walk,” she said, ushering him up from his seat.

Harrison was swept off with a shy and awkward wave back at you.

“You’re crushing on that blond haired, blue-eyed beauty, aren’t you?”

“Stop talking like you’re in a Disney show and eat your food.” Your tone, although you didn’t mean for it to be harsh, came off slightly cranky.

Rex ceased the conversation, pushing around the food on his plate while you angrily stabbed at the salad on your plate with your plastic fork.

“Y/N!”

The man standing with Kat earlier grabbed your attention as you and Rex had quickly made up and finished your food.

“Uh, hi?” You asked hesitantly, moving Rex along with your eyes and a quick nod.

“Dean Willow. Acting coach. You’re Harrison’s assistant, correct?”

Rex snickered when you shook your head.

“what are you then?” He asked as you shifted from foot to foot awkwardly.

“Uh, part of the props team. Like assistant to the assistant to the assistant to the props designer. I just have my list of props for each scene and make them look nice.”

“And you went to school for this?” He asked, not so much condescending as curious.

“I did theatre tech and acting as a minor. Just wasn’t my thing.”

“I couldn’t help but overhear what you and- who was it? The guy with the weird name?”

“Rex.”

“Right. Rex. Talking with Harrison about Meisner. I know he was saying he didn’t think it helped but you sort of talked through how it made sense to you and how it worked for your production of- what show was it?”

“Spring Awakening. Lots of eye contact, lots of chemistry work with people you might not normally have intimacy with.”

The Meisner technique wasn’t the best for every actor nor did it help with every production or scene. But it was useful when it needed to be and you much preferred it over other acting techniques.

“I want you to work with him.”

“Isn’t that your job?”

He laughed, “normally yes. Kat would do the technique with him and they’d work together to form that bond. But as you know she has to work with two leads so splitting her time between the two of them is difficult. We were discussing having someone he already has chemistry with helping ease him into the technique while she works with Jacob.”

You flushed at his comment before straightening up.

“Chemistry?”

“His body language said it all. From when he walked onto set this morning relaxed by your side. He’s calm around you. Not jumpy. I think he’s a terrific actor but an anxious boy. He’s not anxious around you.”

“I’ve known him for like a few hours.”

“And?” Dean asked, as if that meant nothing to him.

“Would I really be the best person to help?”

Dean nodded in understanding, running a hand through his grey and thinning hair. “I’ll make a deal with you. Next movie I’m doing is huge. Bigger than this rom-com. It’s in Hollywood, we need an assistant to the props master. You help me, the job’s yours.”

“I already offered to help him. You don’t need to bribe me.”

“Ah, but I know this extra motivation will make sure you put in your best work.”

You looked back toward the door and Rex, who was leaning against the wall and watching you with a ridiculous smirk.

“Okay. Fine. But I’m leaving. I’ve got a billion and a half years of sleep to catch up on.”

Willow chuckled, nodding understandably. “Let me know if you have any questions. Kat is also a great resource to bounce ideas off of.”

***

Just as you were about to roll over and bug Rex about getting drunk instead of sleeping, your phone buzzed.

Meet me in my trailer? - the blue eyed asshole

***

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#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield series #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield imagine #my writing

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